


Accepting Magic

by Unknown_Gryffindor



Series: Life of a Witch [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bisexual Harry Potter, Complete, Cruel Petunia Dursley, Eligible for Change, F/F, Female Harry Potter, Gen, Hogwarts First Year, Hufflepuff Ron Weasley, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Magical Dudley Dursley, Nice Vernon Dursley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2019-03-24 13:18:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 39,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13811973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unknown_Gryffindor/pseuds/Unknown_Gryffindor
Summary: The wizarding world toasts to the sacrifice the Potter family made. In the muggle world, Azalea Dursley grows up not knowing she was anything other than the abused child of a broken family. Now she and Dudley have to handle being in a world they were raised to despise themselves for being a part of.Between training for Quidditch, and more classes than she feels she can handle, she doesn't have time for the mystery of the third floor. But even in a world where she wants nothing to do with it, trouble always finds her.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I tried to write the second book in this series, but was blocked with how unsatisfied I was with the first book.  
> So I'm rewriting!  
> Rewritten on of 6/5/18

_We have magic._

The thought echoes through Azalea's head menacingly. Dudley, sitting next to her, protests, his voice quivering. “No. We can't. Magic is...” He trails off, and Azalea understands. Magic is wrong, unnatural. The fact that their grandmother thinks they have it makes something crawl around under her skin.

“I know it's a lot to process. When Lily-” Azalea and Dudley both flinch at the topic that was always forbidden with their mother. “When she got her letter, we were-”  
“Letter?” Dudley interrupts. Azalea watches their grandmother with growing panic, remembering vividly the letter that their mother received last week. If it hadn't been for a friendly den of snakes, the punishments the two of them got for simply getting the letters sent to them probably would have killed them.

Their grandmother nods at them. “Her acceptance letter to a school to train her magic.” She looks between them. “We've always been proud of her, of course. It seemed rather lucky, having a witch in the family.” She pauses again, smiling at them. “Now we have another witch, and a wizard. We must be the luckiest family in Cokeworth.”

“No.” Dudley argues, standing up from the couch. “It's not luck.” Azalea silently agrees as her brother storms out of the room. Slowly, she stands and leaves the room, avoiding eye contact. She glances back before heading through the doorway, spotting two envelopes on the table.

***

Azalea sits down onto her aunt Lily's childhood bed, curiously fiddling with a small leather journal. Her eyes flick to the box in the corner that holds her aunts childhood journals, untouched since her grandfather had given them to her and Dudley.

This new journal looks identical to the ones in the box.

Without another thought, she stands and walks over to the box and drops the new journal in, not caring about who gave it to her or why.

***

“What do you think?” Their father boasts loudly, slamming his car door. “More than enough space for all of us, I'd say.” Climbing out of the backseat slowly, Azalea silently argues that it's too much space, and way too much trouble to have gone through for her and Dudley. The house in front of them is larger than any that were in their neighborhood in Surrey, surrounded by enough land to fit four or five copies of the house on either side. “Of course, your grandparents live in town, and you two can ride your bikes there any time.”

Azalea flushes in embarrassment. “We can't.” Dudley growls out, keeping his eyes locked on the house. “We've never learned.”

Their father opens and closes his mouth a few times, looking almost as embarrassed at them. “No problem. Nope, none, I'm sure you can learn in no time.” He coughs, clenching and unclenching his right hand. “Anyway, the decorator finished this morning, and your caseworkers have finally put through the paperwork, so everything's ready for us to move in.” He claps his hands with a strained smile on his face. “Welcome home.”

***

“Alright you two.” Azalea lifts her head slightly in the direction of her fathers voice and she lowers her fork onto her breakfast plate. “It's time we talk about your magic.”

Azalea flinches hard. It's been weeks since they moved here from their grandparents place, and he hadn't brought it up to them once, whereas their grandparents had brought it up constantly. “Why?” Dudley asks in a small whine. “We don't want it.”

“No, you don't. And I'm sure life would be just fine if we ignored it.” Their father states gruffly. “But the fact is that you both do have it. And, according to nurse at that school, if you don't train, it could become dangerous.”

“It's already dangerous!” Dudley yells, his chair crashing to the ground. “It's been dangerous to us for years, and it hurt mom, which is why we're here!” He stands still for a moment, shaking, before continuing quieter. “You don't care, anyways. You left.” Azalea watches as he leaves the room, panic beginning to rise in her chest. They hadn't told anyone what actually happened with their mom. Her back aches at remembering that day, and she risks a look at her father.

The color red is slowly climbing from his neck up his face, and his hands are clenching and unclenching rapidly.

Sensing danger, Azalea stands quickly. “We can talk to snakes.” She says rapidly, trying to get his attention onto her and off of Dudley. “There was a den of them in the garden. While we were out in the shed, I accidentally set them on mom. That's why we all ended up in the hospital. That's all he meant, when he said it hurt mom. We never did anything else.”

Her father gives a small, quick nod, and she moves away slowly, not taking her eyes off of him until she reaches the stairs. Quickly, she turns around and bolts up the stairs, running to the door of Dudley's room.

“'Lee?” She speaks slowly, opening his door and entering the room to find him laying on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

“Should we get ready?” He asks quietly.

Azalea shuts the door quietly behind her, answering with a shaking voice. “I don't know. He wasn't moving, but I don't know if he's mad or what.” She sits next to his bed on the soft blue carpet, and they listen desperately.

After a few minutes, they hear a chair scrape across the floor. Azalea tenses, following the heavy sound of their fathers footsteps as they change to a softer sound of walking on carpet. They both sigh in relief when he doesn't make his way upstairs, followed by a worried glance to each other at the sound of him talking to someone.

***

“Azalea, Dudley, come down here. There's some people here you should meet.”

Sharing a scared look with her brother, Azalea leads the way downstairs, following the soft tones of a conversation into the living room. She and Dudley enter the room slowly. Talking to their father is a stern-looking woman, with black hair pulled into a bun on top of her head. Standing behind them is a man in all black, his pale skin standing in stark contrast.

Azalea's stomach turns at the feeling she gets from the two strangers.

Their father notices them quickly. “And this here is Azalea and Dudley. Children, this is Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape, two teachers at the school you're going to be going to in the fall.”

Azalea digs her nails into her palm, trying to stay calm. _So it's decided, then._ She thinks bitterly. _I'm not going. I don't care what he says._

“We were told about what happened with your mother.” The woman, Professor McGonagall, addressees them. “We're here to help you understand.”

Dudley stands straight. “Understand what? We've always known there was something about us that made our parents hate us.” Azalea notices a small flinch from their father. “Just like we've always known magic is dangerous and unnatural.” The pale man studies them intensely, while the woman scowls.

“You're magic is a part of you.” She tells them, and something inside Azalea lunges, trying to escape her body. Grabbing Dudley's hand, she shoves it back down, trying to get rid of it entirely. Beside her, she can feel Dudley trembling, proving to her that he's having the same struggle. “There are hundreds of new students every year, just like-”

“Minerva.” The other Professor interrupts, and Azalea watches him stand straight and move towards them a few steps. The stern woman follows his gaze and studies them before falling back a step with a small gasp.

Azalea can feel her hands start to shake as their father starts asking questions.

“Your children are rejecting their magic.” Professor Snape tells him in a cold voice. “Can you calm them down?”

_No._ Azalea thinks. _We're not gonna stop._ The edges of her vision go black, and she stumbles into Dudley with a small smile of victory. Their father appears in front of them, speaking to them.

“Calming draught?” Professor McGonagall offers.

Professor Snape shakes his head. “We don't know how it will react with their magic.”

The other professor nods sharply. “You bring them to St. Mungo's. I'll meet you there.” A sharp crack echoes through the room and the stern woman disappears. The strange feeling inside Azalea tries again to lunge out, and she shoves it down again.

The world goes black, the last image in her head is of her father being shoved to the side by the black-clothed professor.

***

Azalea wakes up on a comfortable bed. She can see the brightness of the room even from behind her closed eyelids.

“Where's Azalea?” Dudley's voice croaks out from somewhere in the room.

A unknown voice answers him. “She's in the bed next to you. No, no, you need to relax. You two nearly didn't make it.”

“What do you mean?” Dudley asks quietly, and Azalea opens her eyes slightly to see her brother. He reaches his hand out to her and she entwines her fingers with his, groaning at the amount of effort the small movement took from her.

The owner of the voice, an older woman dressed in orange, hesitates before smiling softly at them. “You two have been in a sort of coma for the past month. You see, you're magic is a part of you, but it's also a thing on it's own, if that makes sense. When you tried to get rid of it, it fought back. It's not meant to be outside of your body.” Azalea watches the woman with caution. “Truthfully, if your magic cores hadn't locked together to stabilize, we might not have been able to do anything.” She pauses, looking between the two of them with worry evident in her eyes. “Now, rest. You two have a guest that should be stopping by soon.”

The two of them watch the woman leave the bright room before turning their heads towards each other. “Do you know where we are?” Azalea asks.

Dudley gives a soft scoffing sort of laugh. “No. You know how long we've been asleep?”

“Nope.” Azalea answers. With a sigh, she looks up to the ceiling. “We were almost free of it.”

“What you were almost free of, Mr. Dursley,” A familiar, cold voice tells her from the doorway, “was your life. Did a Healer tell you what happened?”

Azalea shuts her mouth quickly, watching Professor Snape enter the room. Dudley answers for her. “She said our magic fought us. Almost killed us.”

The professor sighs and walks farther into the room. “I suppose that is the way they would put it. A little more detail is that your magic is a vital part of your body. Without your magic, your body simply doesn't know how to live. If you had managed to remove the magic from your body, you would have both died. What your magic did was try to keep you alive while you two were killing yourselves.”

Some deep, dark part of Azalea whispers to her. _Better d_ _ead than living with magic._

She can feel the professors gaze on her. “You two are going to be here until the Healers declare that you are no longer a threat to yourselves. However, since your father is a muggle, he cannot visit you. He has requested I check in on you periodically and keep him updated.” He sneers while he says it, as though it is the worst request anyone ask of him.

Azalea sighs and lays deeper into her bed, locking resigned eyes with Dudley.

***

It's another month before they're released.

They spend their days talking to mind healers, which seem to just be the magical form of therapist. Professor Snape stops by to sneer at them for a few minutes after dinner before being updated on their progress by the healers and leaving.

It's Snape who escorts them back home, their prescription boxes in hand. “This will refill nightly. They should take it once a day at the same time every day.” He tells their father. “It will keep their magical core settled. After a month on the potion, they should be taken to a healer for a check-up. There is one on a branch of Diagon Alley that you can go to with them.” He nods at Azalea and Dudley. “I shall see the two of you in four months.” Without a proper goodbye to their father, the professor disappears from their front porch with a loud crack.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rewritten on 6/5/18

The days fall into routine once they get back, magic mostly ignored. Azalea and Dudley help their father make breakfast in the morning on the weekdays, followed by them being dropped off at their grandparents while their father goes to work. There, they either catch up on their homeschooling or help out in the greenhouse and store that their grandparents own. They're picked up after work is over and go out to eat with their father in one of the small diners the mill town offers. Once they get home, Dudley and Azalea hide away in one of their rooms, slowly reading through their aunt Lily's childhood journals, trying to understand their families belief in magic.

On the weekends, Azalea and Dudley spend their days outside, teaching themselves to ride a bike and roller-skate and anything else they missed out on when they lived with their mother. Their father typically lets them do their own thing, during the day before leaving when he thinks they're asleep for the night, not stumbling back into the house until early morning.

Their aunt Marge comes and stays with them for Dudley's birthday, happily praising the new backyard, large enough that she could bring her large number of bulldogs with her.

Dudley's birthday party itself is small. Azalea and Dudley have their own tradition, a small celebration as the clock ticks to midnight. The rest of the family gets together for a late breakfast for his birthday, complete with an overwhelming pile of presents for him to open, after which they drive down to the Zoo, where they eat lunch, and get ice cream.

In the reptile house, Dudley talks to all of the snakes, encouraged by the family. Azalea stands next to her brothers side, caught between happiness at being accepted and sickness at the obvious display of being unnatural.

The next Sunday their father makes them go to Diagon Alley for their check-up, as well as some shopping for school. Their father had went to the bank with the help of Professor McGonagall while they were at St. Mungo's. Despite this, he relies on the Azalea and Dudley to point out the worn-down sign for The Leaky Cauldron, and the three of them walk up and down the street a few times before Azalea's blurry eyes can make out the words on a sign above them.

Entering the pub, their father leads them straight to the bartender. “We need to get to Diagon Alley.” He says briskly, clutching a hand onto each of his children's shoulders. The bartender, a man who introduces himself as Tom, leads them into a back alley and taps his wand against the bricks in a strange pattern.

The wall opens, the bricks moving and rearranging themselves until a large archway reveals a hidden street bustling with people.

Azalea's stomach drops as their father thanks Tom and leads them out into the crowd. Desperately she clings to Dudley's arm and keeps her eyes trained on her fathers legs, refusing to look around. They make a sharp turn onto a less populated street, and Azalea risks looking up.

A few people walk up and down the street, browsing the displays of normal-looking shops, if you can ignore what the shops are selling.

They're led into a small, clean building. While their father deals with the man at the front desk, Azalea and Dudley sit, waiting with trepidation for their visit with the Healer. Their father finishes whatever he's doing after about half an hour, and the three of them are taken back into a special room. Azalea sits next to Dudley on the exam bed while their father sits in one of the chairs.

Quickly, a Healer comes into their room, talking to their father and waving his wand over them. Azalea shivers of the feeling she's beginning to identify as magic settles over her every time he waves his wand in her direction. She avoids eye contact while her father explains what he knows of their time with their mother, and the Healer has them show him various locations where their scars are located. A scroll of paper next to him slowly begins to list out all of the injuries they've had in their life, and the Healer leaves the room for a moment before coming back with two new prescription boxes.

Holding up the various potion bottles, the Healer shows them their prescriptions. “These are all of the potions you two will need to take daily. This one will help with your stunted growth, these two to help your bones strengthen and heal, this one will slowly fix your eyesight while it's partner here will make it so you can see clearly in the meantime, and this one should regulate your metabolism. You should continue taking your core stabilizers until you get to Hogwarts, just in case. This one with the twist-off cap is your scar-removal, rub it over any scars you have every day and they should be gone between three months and a year.”

Azalea nods at the Healer, overwhelmed, and he smiles at them before addressing their father with a few more details about the prescriptions.

***

After the Healer visit, they go shopping for their upcoming school year, starting with their luggage. Azalea trails around the store, looking at the hundreds of different type of trunks. Quickly she decides that there's no point in trying to find one she wanted. They all look great to her, and her father seems determined to find the best one anyways.

In the end, they leave with both her and Dudley owning trunks that are basically small houses on the inside, Dudley with dark gray and Azalea with light gray, satchels, book bags and bags for the bathroom, everything with their name on it. The trunks open with a password that neither kid has set yet, and the worker that checked them out set them with a temporary password.

After that, their father pulls them across the street to a buy their school wardrobe The uniform shop, Madam Malkins, isn't busy, and they are greeted immediately with a smile.

“First year?” She guesses looking between Azalea and her brother before locking eyes with their father. At his nod, she pulls out a quill and holds it near a roll of paper. “Anyone in your family been to Hogwarts before?”

Her father shrugs. “Their aunt on their mothers side was. We've never met her.”

She smiles and nods. “Okay, so I'm gonna explain what the uniforms are before you set your order.” She waits for Azalea father to agree before continuing. “Everybody gets the same choices for their outfits, and they can be edited to fit in almost any way you want. The easiest way to put it is that your bottoms are either white or brown, both light and dark options, and you can have either skirts or pants. Your shirts come in t-shirts, tank tops, long sleeves, and button-ups. They come in purple originally, but will change once your sorted. Belts can come with anything if you want them, and those will change color later as well.”

She looks at the three of them and smiles. “Simple, I know. But they can be edited any way you want, and you can accessorize however you wish. Other than the uniforms, there are cloaks to go with them, workout gear that you'll be brought back here to get once you've been sorted, and the specified boots and gloves that you'll need for your different classes. First years all get the same set of classes, so we already know what you need.”

Azalea ends up with both skirts and pants with belts, five of each color, with just about about the same amount of shirts. Ten of every type of shirt, excluding tank tops, of which she got twenty. She shrinks back at the large amount of clothes, looking at Dudley who got the same thing she did, although his pants were doubled since he didn't get any skirts, only for him to shrug and stay quiet.

The worker smiles at them, seeming to sense their discomfort with the situation. “It isn't uncommon for Hogwarts-bound students to get a lot of clothes. House elves do your washing there, and the magic tends to wear down any clothes quickly. Now, we'll have Madam Malkin size you two and get your preferences for fit in the back room while I talk to your dad about price.”

Azalea flinches at the idea of cost, but quietly does as she was told and heads to the back room with her brother. A woman in a maroon dress stands from her desk when they enter. They're placed in front of a mirror that shows them what their uniform would look with any option Madam Malkin decides to show them.

Madam Malkin ushers them through the process quickly, making different fabrics appear so they can choose what their clothes will feel like. Dudley goes through his fitting slowly, unsure on every decision, and she knows she's acting the same way, and Azalea is shocked at how nice the woman was as she walked them through their choices.

Azalea decides she kinda like the look of the circle skirts and the pants fitted to her legs. Half of her tank tops are slightly fitted over the chest, but get looser the farther down the body it goes, with the straps covering half of her shoulders. The other half are tight to her body, with a single strap over her shoulders, and her button-ups are loose down her arms, but would fit to her body well over to her tank top if she chose to button it up.

Her long sleeves fit the same way as her button-ups, and her t-shirts have sleeves down to her elbows that get looser the farther down they go. She wasn't sure they counted as t-shirts anymore, but Madam Malkin allows it so she tries not to worry. All her shirts are long enough to reach halfway down her butt, a fact she makes sure of. She had to wear too-small clothes that would try to show her stomach most of her life, she didn't want to do it again.

For fabrics, she decides to simply make them all the softest material Madam Malkin offered.

Azalea is led back to the entrance, where the three of them are told it would talk an hour for their uniforms to be made. Her father nods and pays, now that the adjustments have been added to the price.

The three of them leave and head to the other clothing shop on the street. Twilfitt and Tatting'sis for their 'specialized' clothing. There they are sized for a pair of ritual robes, cloaks for different types of weather, as well as outfits for three dances, as they were told they should. Azalea stares in awe at the different dresses, all with their own corsets. Her father convinces the designers to take design Azalea dresses, while he buys Dudley three suits in different shades of gray. They agree to send the ball clothes to the house in a few days, when they have been designed and created, and the kids put their white ritual robes in one of their multiple walk-in closets in their trunks.

Azalea is almost shocked to find a kid their age waiting when they get back to Madam Malkins. He stands at the counter as they approach, not noticing them until they are right next to him. He jumps back lightly, startled, and runs a pale hand through his blond hair. Their outfits appear in front of them quickly, along with the woman who was working on them. The boy quickly looks at the dark material and smirks. “I'm in first-year too. Know what house you're going to be in yet?”

Azalea shakes her head tentatively and Dudley gives the boy a quick “no.” The blonde wasn't put off by their lack of conversational skills. “I'm going to be in Slytherin, I just know it. My father was there, and I think I'm much more like him than my Mother. She was a Ravenclaw. But all I really care about is getting on the Quidditch team, no matter which house I'm in.”

Dudley frowns. “First-years aren't allowed on the team.” That's what it said on their acceptance letters, anyways. The boy frowns back at him at that and changes the conversation.

“Who're you, anyways? I'm Draco. Draco Malfoy.” Azalea wants to scoff, unable to believe an eleven year old kid could sound like such a prick.

“I'm Dudley. This is my sister, Azalea.”

Their conversation was stopped abruptly when they both got handed their huge pile of clothes and told to put it away into their trunks.

After their clothes, they go to the potions store and get an order form attached to their fathers bank account so they can order any potions ingredients they'll need without buying stuff they'll never use.

At the stationary store, their father buys them both one of every type of quill, not knowing which type they'll work with or what exactly they'd need. Their parchment comes in rolls of 40ft that they would cut into smaller pieces when they know the length they needed for essays, and they both get what they believe is more than enough. Ink they just buy in black, but get it charmed to not spill, not smudge, and refill when needed.

The bookstore is their next stop. Azalea and Dudley quickly grab the first-year bundle of books the store has set up, while their father seems determined to get a little bit of everything. They both end up with an introductory book into every subject their father could find.

Before getting a wand, they all browse the street for a while. They got a white owl for the family from Eyelops that they named Hedwig, and their father tried to get them both to buy a snake at Magical Menagerie. Both Azalea and Dudley refused, not wanting to bring a pet into a school they haven't even been to before.

Their last stop of the day is Ollivanders. Azalea follows her family inside warily. All around the shop were various items she assumes goes into making a wand. Different types of wood lay in piles, feathers float throughout the room, pieces of fur lines different tables, other things Azalea cannot identify lay on shelves covering the walls.

Azalea feels a tugging in her stomach and looks at her father briefly before sneaking away, following her gut. She follows the tugging to a feather, floating in the air above her head.

“You can grab it, if it chose you.” A voice said behind her. She jumps hard, turning and stumbling backwards away from the threat. Then Dudley's there next to her, holding her shaking hands with his own while their father gets the attention of the man and scolds him for scaring his family.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rewritten as of 6/16/18

Azalea spends the next two months ignoring anything to do with magic. The night they had gotten back from Diagon Alley, she had shoved everything into the closet of her guest room and vowed not to think about it until she had to.

As school gets closer, Azalea and Dudley get just as many normal school supplies as they had got magical supplies. Their grandparents give them both a first aid kit to keep with them, along with a day of instructions on how to use everything efficiently. Their father took them to a school supplies store, and they bought more than enough pens, pencils, notebooks, and anything else their father believed they might have a need for. Multiple times he takes them shopping at a mall, buying clothes for them to wear when not in class, along with face-wash to stop any future acne problems, and just about every scent of shampoo, conditioner, body wash, and deodorant.

By the end of shopping, they can both fill a closet with all the different size and color towels they get for the year. They're ready for winter, with a couple of coats each, some nice boots, snow suits and snow pants, hats, and gloves.

Azalea drags her feet through her bathroom into her spare room, bitterly making her way to the closet. After months of ignoring everything magical besides her prescriptions, they leave for school in the morning and she has to pack. Sighing, she looks for the bag with her wand in it, opening the holly box and pulling out the fancy stick. Quickly, she taps her wand to the engraving of her name and changes the password to her name in the hiss of snake-language. It opens itself fully, causing her to jump back in surprise. She shakes her head at herself and places her school supplies and book bag into the basic trunk.

She switches the setting to the next layer and her trunk extends upwards, becoming a small walk-in closet. _The closets adjust to exactly what you need_ was what the person who sold them the trunks had promised.

Her wizarding clothing sits in its bags on the floor, while her more 'formal' outfits are already hanging, covered in a clear layer of shimmering magic to protect them. She puts them all away quickly, not wanting to look. Her uniforms from Malkins goes to one side, and the clothing from Tatting's goes to the other, along with a small dresser that holds enough undergarments and socks to match the obscene number of clothes. Along the back she lays out her different types of boots, and shelves appear for her to put her multiple pairs of gloves on.

The third layer is simple storage that she decides to use for bathroom supplies, starting with her bathroom bag. She has dozens of different scents of shampoo, conditioner, body wash, and deodorant, two toothbrushes, multiple different types of hair brushes, nine tubes of toothpaste, and a bunch of pads and tampons that her father told her to pack but refused to actually talk about. She spreads all of those out on the shelves before emptying out her bathroom of towels, hand towels she uses to spread her potions over her scars, and those medium-sized towels she cleans her face with before bed. She has each in every color imaginable, and packs them all away aside from the one's she had used that day.

Switching to the next layer, Azalea groans before closing the trunk and moving it to her bedroom and opening back up. The closet is huge, with two different areas for two different temperatures. She moves her current wardrobe from her large closet to one side of the magic closet, knowing there was no reason to not bring everything when you can fit it and don't know what you'll want. Dudley had told her weeks ago that he was doing the same thing. The only clothes of hers that would be staying at this house were the pajamas that she was currently wearing and the outfit she had worn today that hasn't been washed yet.

After thinking, she realizes she doesn't have anything to wear tomorrow, and she pulls out a skirt, tube-top, and knee-high boots, along with her undergarments, which sadly include the training bra she hates wearing.

The next layer was for her potions ingredients. This one wasn't super specialized, she realized. There were many more slots available to her than ingredients could imagine using, each one labeled for something specific. She tried to remember what she had been told about it. _A slot for every ingredient in any potion published in the potions guild. Updates itself automatically if anything new is found to be useful._ She shrugs her shoulders and opens a random drawer, surprised to find it was much deeper than it looked. A large opening on the bottom gave her as much space as she needed for her cauldrons and potions tools as well.

After that she found her personal library, as it was called. She puts in her aunt Lily's journals, since she and Dudley had stopped reading them, not wanting to read about Hogwarts while they were so nervous about going themselves. The library held room for those as well as her schoolbooks, which she unbinds and puts away quickly. Without anything else to pack, Azalea switches back to her first layer before shutting and locking the trunk, breathing better now that everything looks normal again.

With that done, Azalea only has her satchel done. She places her wand in its box and puts it away, followed by a right arm wand holster and the wand polish. Clasping her satchel shut, she throws it on top of her trunk, exhausted from the hours of packing. Trying not to think about tomorrow, Azalea shuts off her lights and climbs into bed.

***

None of their family can make it through the barrier to wave them off, so they say their goodbyes outside the wall of platform 9 ¾.

Azalea wants to beg them to not make her go. She had crawled into Dudleys' bed after spending hours of not being able to fall asleep, wanting the familiar comfort. They spent years knowing that the part of them that held their magic was unnatural, and the past few months of everyone telling them differently was overwhelming.

But she doesn't ask to stay. Her father spent too much money on the stuff for the school, even if he said it was no big deal. She couldn't risk making him waste that much money, not after being a burden on her mother for years.

Their father keeps patting their shoulders, and their grandparents reminded them to read ahead, and to take notes on their readings. It would help them remember what they read, and all teachers liked when kids were prepared, no matter which world they were in.

The goodbye was quiet and long, but eventually Azalea found herself being physically pushed through the barrier with Dudley by her side. The train appeared in front of them, looking almost like a normal, if old-fashioned, train, in a light gray color. **The Hogwarts Express** is written along the side in purple, and both of them were thankful they arrived early enough that there were only a few family's standing around.

They grab each others hands and climb onto the train, pretending they were getting on a normal train to a normal boarding school. If they ignored the shrunken trunks in their pockets, they could almost fool themselves. They find themselves a compartment on the opposite side of the tracks to claim as their own and bring their trunks back to normal sizes, pulling out what they need for taking notes on their books. Outside the window they see nothing but a wall, and they're both more than happy with that.

They both occupy their mind for the next couple hours by reading Hogwarts: A History. Azalea gets startled out of the book by the door of their compartment being slid open with a bang. The two of them jump back from the sound, curling in on themselves instinctively, the items on their laps scattering around them.

A bushy-haired, dark-skinned girl pays no attention to them, asking if they had seen a toad. She talks for a minute after they both shake their heads no, ranting about how she could be reading further ahead if she could just find it before leaving without even offering her name. The abrupt departure of the girl leads both children share looks before laughing in startled shock. That girl was gonna be a handful to any house she ended up in.

Azalea takes the interruption as the sign to stop studying the school, and Dudley follows her lead as she puts her book back into her trunk. The only two breaks they took on the hours since they got onto the train was to take their prescribed potions with their packed lunches, and to buy two of every type of wizarding sweet the trolley had to offer. They didn't eat any of it, they just wanted the option to try it in the future.

They shrink their trunks and put them in their pockets, unsure if anybody would mess with them if they were left alone, before they walk up and down the train looking for a restroom. There are only a few people wandering the train hallway, with the upper-years still catching up with friends and the first-years nervously keeping to themselves for the most part.

They find the bathrooms at the end of the first car of the train. Azalea finishes quickly and waits outside the bathroom doors for her brother. By the time he joins her again the train slows itself to a stop, and together they follow the groups of students out the doors. A huge man, twice as tall as their father, and five times as wide, stands to the left of the train, calling the fourth years.

Azalea sticks close to Dudley as they follow the man and are led to boats, rocking lightly next to the docks. The feeling of her brothers arm rubbing against hers give her comfort of something familiar. They're in this together.

The boats fit four people, and Azalea finds herself in a boat with Dudley, Draco, and a girl with a nose permanently turned towards the sky, no matter where her head was facing.

“Azalea and Dudley, right?” Draco greets them. “I never did get your last name.” Azalea remembers slowly that wizards address each other with their last names until permission was given otherwise. She hopes Dudley remembered.

“Dursley. Both of us.” Her brother responds. The girl is introduced as Parkinson, and they all slip into silence as they ride across the lake.

Her first view of the castle causes her to pause. She rakes her eyes across the entire castle, eyes lingering on the bridge to their right, going over a large hole in the ground, seemingly headed to the same place they are coming from. The entire castle seems too large, too unnatural.

 _Maybe_ , she thought to herself, _I'm just feeling the magic from it. Maybe it's not unnatural, it's just not normal._

_***_

Azalea walked into the Great Hall with her cousin by her side, determined to ignore the thousands of students watching them. Her year group seems to have a couple hundred people, and judging by the amount of people, that's probably the normal amount.

_Professor McGonagall had explained in the hallway that a hat would sort them, but Azalea still jumps in surprise when it yells it sorting to the room. She stares at the ground as the hat yells, sending Abbott to Hufflepuff, and Boot to Ravenclaw. Slowly but surely, the entire year gets sorted. Azalea doesn't have to wait long to hear her own name._

On shaky legs she steps forward, terrified and hopeful that somehow the hat will refuse to sort her, that it'll tell her that she doesn't really belong here. She meets the eyes of the Professor and tries to ignore as the woman takes in a sharp breath. The sorting hat is placed on her head, and it slides down to cover her eyes as her world gets surrounded by a gray mist.

A red tint fills her view. “Bravery. Daring. Nerve. Chivalry. Nerve.” The words whisper through her mind.

Red turns to yellow. “Hard Work. Patience. Loyalty. Fairness. Kindness.” Around her, in the mist, a room begins to form.

The walls seem blue. “Intelligence. Knowledge. Creativity. Originality. Wisdom.” The room is a circle, made of stone. Above her, the full moon floats in a sky bursting with stars.

The tint becomes green. “Ambition. Cunning. Resourcefulness. Tradition. Self-Preservation.” Doors appear all around the room, and all of Azalea's nerves disappear with the colored tint.

“Follow your magic, and find where you belong. Each door is potential, a potential you could reach.”

She nods at the words and follows the tugs in her stomach. There were dozens of rooms, but she knew, instinctively, which ones interested her.

The first one she opens shows her an adult version of her, with a lovers arm around her waist. This version of her was pregnant, and she was holding a young child in her arms. Adult her was smiling, obviously happy.

 _Dudley._ She thinks, looking around. Can she handle a future without him? Without another thought, she shuts the door and follows her magic to the next one.

It doesn't show her Dudley, specifically, but she does get the assumption that the person was a friend, and she assumes it could be him. But then she thinks about it, and decides that's not what she wants either.

She goes looks at a few more doors before finding one that shows her a future she could want herself to accomplish. Adult her is standing in front of a child, one that looked like a young version of herself, and she was ready to take the blow that was aimed towards the kid. A friend that feels like Dudley grabs the child's parent and pulls them back, and Azalea knows that's what she wants.

She wants to protect everyone who was in the same position she was.

Azalea walks into the room and shuts the door behind her.

“Gryffindor.” Booms into her ears, and her nerves return to her as the hat is lifted off of her head. She follows the Headmistress's pointing and heads to the table filled with cheering students that sits on the far right side of the room from the front. She sits at the end of the table and sighs.

It was loud and energetic and she feels incredibly out of place, but the idea of her potential gives her the strength to relax.

Dudley gets sorted after her, and she hopes, selfishly, that he follows her to Gryffindor. The seconds drag on, and she smiles and claps with sweaty hands when the hat yells Hufflepuff. Azalea watches as the hat leaves his head, her eyes not leaving him as he walks to the table closest to her table.

He sits behind her spot, smiling at her. She gives him a thumbs up and he smiles back at her.

Their eyes share to each other that their terrified to be separate, but both willing to try.

The sorting continues, and she tries to hear through the blood rushing in her ears.

Granger to Gryffindor, Longbottom to Gryffindor, Malfoy to Slytherin, Parkinson to Slytherin, Weasley to Hufflepuff.

When the last one had been sorted, the Headmaster stood from his spot from the middle of the top row of teachers. “Welcome, students, to Hogwarts. Another year has gone by, and another stands on the horizon. However, I know we all wish to dig into our feast. All I wish to say before we eat is this.”

“Ten years ago, the Potters died to protect us all from dark forces. This year is the year their child, a child of prophecy, would have began their Hogwarts journey. That child died, but not before rebounding the killing curse back at its castor and ending a reign of terror. So I hope tonight, you'll all raise a glass to the child or James and Lily Potter, the child who saved us all.”

Azalea claps politely with the rest of the school, praising the strangers who apparently saved the wizarding world. The Headmaster claps his hands and the tables fill with hundreds of different foods, and the conversation picks up again quickly, with all of the new first-years introducing themselves.

***

Azalea looks around in awe at the Gryffindor common room. The ground floor has three fireplaces, each surrounded by couches, love-seats, and chairs, and it by itself was big enough to fit the hundreds of students in the house. Above them, mini-rooms float, accessible by ladders. From underneath, Azalea couldn't see what was on the floating floors, but from the glow they were giving off, she would bet that they have fire on them somehow.

The entire room has a reddish glow from the fires, and she can see that the entire house wears these colors proudly.

Startled, Azalea realizes that Professor McGonagall was in the room and addressing the group. “- first-year dorm area is up the stairs, the door is marked clearly. There are five beds to a room, you have the freedom to choose your own roommates. Keep in mind that your roommates with be the people you are sleeping near, sharing a bathroom with, and generally seeing more than anyone else. You want to be comfortable with who you choose.”

“As your head-of-house, I do have access to records of all grades, detentions, and hospital wing visits you may have. If you are not meeting certain grade requirements at different points throughout your school year, I have no qualms about giving you a scheduled tutor in your free time. You are expected to be in the common room no later than nine at night, unless you have been approved to be out ahead of time. Breakfast starts at five and will go until eight, but as tomorrow is your first day a prefect will walk you down at six thirty.”

“Lastly, I want to emphasize this house will be like your family for the next seven years. And, like family, there will be arguments, fights, disagreements. But you will always stand by them. I expect you to support one another. After all, everyone in this room chose a future that put them here. Everyone is different here, but you all have something you strive for that makes you similar to those next to you.”

With those words of wisdom, Professor McGonagall dismisses them.

Azalea ends up rooming with four other girls. Hermione Granger, Jamie Taylor, Emily Roberts, and Katherine Wright pull her into their group, claiming that they wanted to make sure no boys tried to room with them.

The five of them are exhausted from the feast and the train-ride, and did little to get to know each other aside from their names and the fact they were all muggle-born. They other girls crawl into bed as soon as they claim a room, and Azalea is less than surprised when they all fall asleep by the time she changes, brushes her teeth, cleans her face and throws her curly, unruly black hair into a ponytail. Quickly, she chugs down her prescriptions, knowing she has to go to the

Crawling into bed with her soft, plaid pajamas, Azalea lays down and watches the underside of her canopy, her nervous energy keeping her up once more.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rewritten as of 6/16/18

Azalea wakes up her mind filled with images from her dreams. Green light taking over a crib, red hair flying in the wind, a orange kitten sleeping on black fur, a black silhouette against a stark white background. Strange, nonsensical flashes that have been following her around as long as she could remember. There were newer ones from her childhood, nightmares, but the strange dreams always linger in her mind.

She pushes herself out of bed and opens her trunk, pulls out her toiletries, and throws what she needs for the week into her bathroom bag. She heads to the bathroom and studies it like she was too tired to last night. On one side are five toilets with curtains to pull around them when they're in use. The other held five large showers, divided by room dividers that are the taller than Azalea is.

In the middle, five sinks stand next to each other in front of a row of mirrors. The mirror on the right opens as she approaches it, and she stands in shock at the large amount of storage space. She places all of the stuff from her bag into the cabinet, excluding her shower supplies, her towel, and her face wash, which she's going to keep in her bag.

The scent she had randomly picked turned out to be rose. She cringes at it but doesn't switch it out. She spent years working away in her mothers garden, tending to the flowers. Hundreds of unpleasant memories. Ending with her mother getting bit by maybe a dozen garden snakes and being rushed to the hospital.

But there are good memories with the smell as well. Her grandparents and their flower shop, and the greenhouse. Learning her and Dudley could talk to snakes in the backyard.

She steps into the shower with her bag, finding there are places in there to place all of her items, including her morning face wash. She puts her stuff away and undresses, putting the pajamas in the bag with her towel, hoping that it'll stay dry.

As soon as she shuts the bag, the shower head over her turns on. She laughs, startled, before stopping herself, ashamed that she had felt any joy at magic. Quickly she tries to shove that shame away. It wouldn't do her any good, in this world, if she hated every part of it.

She'd end up just like her mother.

***

Azalea stares at the washcloth and her scar-removal. She put a layer over her fading burns on her arms and her stomach, but the belt marks on her back were something she couldn't reach on her own. At home, she and Dudley would help each other. She stands in just a towel in front of the sink, staring at her dilemma, for long enough time that Hermione wakes up and walks into the bathroom.

The two of them nod at each other silently as the dark-skinned girl approaches the middle sink and claims it as her own. Azalea takes a deep breath and turns to her new roommate, really wishing she had Dudley with her.

“Can you help me?” She asks quietly, holding up the washcloth in explanation. “I need to rub the potion on my back, but I can't do it on my own.”

Hermione clearly hesitates, before setting her jaw and nodding, grabbing the wash cloth carefully. “Where on your back? All over, or-” She trails of as Azalea moves her towel to cover her front, revealing her back to the girl. “What-”

“It's scar-removal.” Is all Azalea offers as explanation, and Hermione silently runs the cloth down the marks that are slightly faded on her back. “It'll glow blue for a second when it's done.” The two girls avoid looking at each other in the mirror, and Azalea finds herself happy she brushed her hair and teeth before starting this.

The washcloth is handed back to her silently, and she throws it in her shower bag, leaving the room quickly with a nod of thanks in the other girls direction.

Nobody else in the room is awake yet. Breathing deeply to get over the awkward encounter, she opens her trunk to her wizarding closet. She takes a stupid amount of happiness in grabbing matching, pink, bra, underwear, and socks. She's never had the option to wear anything that was new enough to match with anything else before she lived with her father, and in his house she felt too nervous to really wear what she wants.

She looks at her wardrobe for a while, shocked at the difference in the clothing from when she packed it. Everything was either red or gold, and she thinks that she might never get used to it. She doesn't even think the tailor had said she'd get two different colored tank tops, but all the ones she planned on wearing under her button-ups were gold. Slowly, she pulls out clothes to wear that day.

Pants, dark brown. Gold belt. Gold tank top. Red button-up. Leather boots. Thin cloak.

She ducks behind her room divider, holding the clothes closely to her chest. Even with all the new clothes she had, she didn't think any of them were as soft as her uniform. She stands in her spot, studying the pants. Her pocket was gold, like the tailor had said it was gonna be, but Azalea also saw that the seams and buttons also turned gold. Her cloak is a dark red with a gold design on the outside, with the inside matching her pants.

She shakes herself out of whatever trance she is in and pulls her pajamas and washcloth out of her bag and placing it in her clothes hamper, followed quickly by the towel she was wearing. She dresses herself quickly and steps back into view of the room, and grabs her book bag and satchel, along with all of her schoolbooks. She doesn't know what classes they have today, and puts her notebooks for each class in the bag with a full roll of parchment, and both wizarding and normal writing utensils.

After a small hesitation, she grabs the last journal that she has from her aunt Lily and slides it into her book bag carefully. She leaves her bedroom, nearly running into an upper-year who had their arm raised to knock.

Azalea flinches back violently at the raised fist. “I'm sorry for scaring you.” The girl laughs nervously, lowering her arm. “I'm Katie. The prefects asked me to wake you and your roommates.” Azalea forces a small smile and steps to the side, allowing Katie into the room. “Thanks.” She says awkwardly, moving into the room. “The more eager students are heading down. I'm sure you can make it to join them.”

Azalea nods and leaves the room quickly, fist clenched tight to fight against her shaking.

***

Dudley slides in next to Azalea at the Gryffindor table and lays his schedule down next to her before filling his plate with a simple breakfast. She can feel him jump as a note appears in front of him, and Azalea bites back a small chuckle.

She had done the same thing when her note had appeared. They're from Madam Pomfrey, a small explanation that the school has received their prescriptions and that they have a check-up scheduled for the upcoming weekend. Until then, the resident potions master will be making their potions and making sure they are taking them properly.

Pulling a sparkly red pen out of her book bag, Azalea scans his schedule and marks an A next to the classes they have together. Dudley glances down and smiles. “Seven out of twelve. Not too bad.” They eat quickly and head to their first class.

Azalea stares at the map that everyone in Gryffindor was given before Dudley chuckles. “Have fun with that. Hufflepuff makes it easier.” He taps his wand to his schedule and names their first class and an arrow appears, leading them on their way.

***

History of Magic has everyone from their year in it, in a large lecture hall. Professor Binns floats at the front of the class, droning through a lesson plan that quickly makes even the most excited in their class drowsy. Dudley and Azalea spend the first ten minutes trying to pay attention before Azalea give up and pulls out her aunt Lily's journal.

On the inside of the front cover is a small letter addressed to her. Confused, Azalea nudges Dudley and lays the note between them.

_Miss Potter._

_Your mother left me her journals before she died. She wished for you to feel like she was with you on your own Hogwarts adventure._

_Today would have been her 31 st birthday. This journal starts on her 11th._

The note is unsigned, and Azalea and Dudley share a confused look. Quickly, Azalea pulls out an empty notebook and two colorful pens and places them between in place of the note, putting the note back into the journal.

Think it was sent to the wrong person? She asks.

Slowly, opens the cover of the journal to where the other journals were all inscribed with the name Lily Evans. Like in all the other journals, the name is there, clear to see.

I guess not. She bites the inside of her cheek, trying to understand. The journal and the note don't seem to go together at all. Their grandparents never said anything about their aunt changing her name for any reason, so they always assumed that Lily Evans always stayed Lily Evans.

 _Although,_ Azalea thinks, _they did say they haven't heard anything from her since she graduated._

***

They're let out of class an hour early with instructions to write half a foot on their current level of knowledge on the subjects they're going to cover, and she and Dudley decide to show each other where their common rooms are. Dudley uses his map to lead them to the Hufflepuff common room, the entrance hidden in a pile of barrels. She watches him tap out a beat on one of the barrels, causing the barrels to twist itself open and widen until a tunnel big enough to walk through is in front of them.

He runs into his dorm to grab the stuff for his next class, and then the two of them head back to the Great Hall, the only place Azalea can remember how to get to her common room from.

She leads Dudley up seven flights of stairs to The Fat Lady. She gives the portrait the password, letting Dudley see the inside of the room before she heads inside to drop off everything she wont need for Herbology. As she joins Dudley, Katie from this morning runs into her.

“Fun first class?” She asked, grinning. “What was it?” Azalea sighs and hands over her schedule to the upper-year. The girls gives an understanding laugh. “History of Magic is a waste of time. Ghosts forget everything that's happened since they're death every year on their death-day, so having a ghost teach something that gets bigger every year is useless. Especially when they're as old and racist as Binns.” Katie rolls her eyes and hands her her schedule back. “If you're interested in history, do yourself a favor and get a tutor. The school allows it, but they won't tell you it's an option.”

Azalea nods, sharing a look with Dudley. Silently, they both agree they wont even bring it up to their father. No need to put extra effort when they don't really want to be here. Katie says goodbye to them as she catches the eye of a friend and runs off.

***

Herbology, she decides, looks easy enough, despite the fact that they have to ride horses for twenty minutes to get to the greenhouses. Her class of forty people would be tending to the 'standard' plants and learning their uses under the instruction of Professor Frey Carlson. All first year Herbology classes would be studying different plants at different times, cycling through the entire greenhouse so that everything remains cared for.

“Hogwarts sells their plants to those who want it. It's a way for the school to keep earning money, so that you guys don't have to pay admission like students used to have to.” Professor Frey tells them, letting them wander around the large greenhouse that was designated for their year.

Azalea wanders around, looking for anything she might recognize. Her grandparents run a flower shop, and she's helped them out a lot since her father regained custody of her and Dudley, but there doesn't seem to be many flowers here. She does notice a few herbs that had forced themselves to be known in her mothers garden, but she was never taught what they were, only how to get rid of them to keep her precious roses safe.

She looks around, wishing that Dudley was in this class with her. She doesn't recognize anyone, despite a quarter of them being her house-mates. But being alone in class was something she was accustomed to from primary school, and she could handle it. It's always been just her and Dudley, as far as she's concerned that's all she needs.

They get out of class early, having gone over their class objectives and requirements, and given homework of reading the section on lavender in their books.

Dudley is at the Great Hall when she gets there, and she joins him at the Hufflepuff table, giving him a smile that lets him know Herbology seems good, even if they didn't actually do anything. “Potions seems like it's gonna be like cooking.” He offers her with a smile. “Maybe a bit more precise though.” She smiles and grabs some food, eating slowly.

Even though it's been half a year since they lived with their mom, Azalea still didn't eat very much. Dudley didn't have the same problem, and Azalea wonders, as she often does, if it's all in her head. If she was still scared to eat as much as everyone pushed her to.

They spend their time before their next class wandering the castle, stopping by both of their common rooms to grab their wizarding culture books. They barely cover the first floor by the time two hours passed and they need to head to their next class.

***

Their culture class is a first-year only course for muggle-born students, with their class in particular having twenty people in it. They're promised by Professor Oliver Sanderson an easy class with no homework, just a year of studying the world around them. Wizard-born students have a similar class for studying the muggle world, and Azalea believes her class is gonna be easier.

She shares a quick dinner with Dudley at the Gryffindor table before they head off into their opposite directions for their physical education, as she thinks of it. In reality, Dudley has swimming with the Hufflepuffs and Azalea heads to Gymnastics with the Griffindors, a thought that terrifies her. She saw Gymnastics on the TV once, and it wasn't anything she ever thought she'd do.

 _It fits with Gryffindor._ She thinks, smirking. _Flying through the air is definitely daring._

She stands with the class as the instructor talks to them about safety and procedure, as well as why they have exercise as a required class. A fit body has been proven to help expand your magical core, and while being out of shape won't damage your core, you can't reach your full potential.

It's not a graded course

About a half hour into their class, the class floo's to **Madam Malkins** to pick out their clothes. About ten people are in the shop to help, and she gets led into a back room quickly.

“Alright, Azalea.” Them man who was helping her smiles, glancing at a paper in his hands. “Your father seems to have bought you eight leotards, with any accessories and material you wish.” Azalea resists the urge to both sigh and flinch at the same time. A months worth, just like her normal uniform. She probably should've guessed.

Not wanting to disappoint her father, she experiments with the looks. First-years don't have any designs, but they can choose between either red or gold for colors. She ends with four different sleeve lengths, in both red and gold, in a soft, shiny material. A bit uncomfortable with the bottom, she gets some small, flowing skirts that cover her slightly more. She knew it was like a bathing suit, but she wore shorts with her suit the few times they went to swimming classes over the summer, and she didn't like being that revealed.

As soon as she's done, she floo's back to the gym with the promise that her leotards would be at the gym by the next time she has that class.

***

Azalea studies the common room more thoroughly that night. The stairs to the dorms follow the curve of the wall up halfway around the room, and the other wall is littered with window seats that are accessed by ladders. She climbs to one of the unoccupied seats and claims it as her own. The floating floors she saw last night each had a bonfire on them, with chairs circling them.

She smiles. It is all rather cozy and welcoming. She lets herself relax in the seat, grabbing her parchment, quill, and ink to do her history homework. The sun outside is partially behind the tree line, but the room around her remains lit. _As though by magic._

Her parchment tears itself at half a foot after she taps her wand at the measurement. She writes out a small paragraph, explaining her background, and moves to go on to the next half and explain her lack of knowledge when she see's something moving quickly in her peripheral. She throws her arm out, catching the small ball that was flying around the room.

She glances around the room, noticing for the first time that there are many of them flying around. They blend in so well she can barely see them, shimmering and morphing like their trying not to be seen. Azalea studies the ball in her hand, trying to make her eyes focus on it.

“They're under a disillusionment charm.” A boy says, climbing into the seat with her. She jumps, releasing the strange ball into the air. Her eyes follow it, but she stays aware of the boy watching her from the other end of the window seat. “Most people can't even see them. I know I can't.” She looks at him with a raised eyebrow. “They take pictures. They're charmed to not go into certain areas, like bathrooms and behind bed curtains, but they're pretty much everywhere else.” Azalea shifts her eyes to one of the cameras, unsure how she feels about them, and curious as to why she hadn't noticed them before. “My name is Oliver, I'm Quidditch captain for Griffindors teams. Have you ever flown before?”

She shakes her head, confused. For a quick moment he looks defeated before he perks up again. “I'm gonna sit in on your flying lessons. I think you've got the eyes of a seeker, but I guess it depends on if you're any good on a broom.” He nods to himself and moves to leave, heading down the ladder. He stops when his head is level with her legs. “What's your name, anyway?”

Azalea frowns at the boy. “Azalea.” She says quietly, watching him toss her a grin before disappearing down the ladder. She watches the spot he was at for a while before shaking her head and finishing her essay. She reads her passage from Herbology and takes some notes on it in her Herbology notebook. Her homework done, she opens her aunt Lily's journal, hoping it can help her solve the mystery of the note.

“I hear Oliver's scouting you.” Katie says, hanging on the ladder under her. Azalea takes a deep breath, wondering why she's so popular tonight. She looks at the third-year wearily, causing the girl to laugh lightly. “Don't worry about him. He's nuts about Quidditch. I'm a chaser on the Lion team, with my friends Angelina and Alicia, and we've been lacking a seeker since I was a first-year. Don't let him put any pressure on you, first-years can't even play.” She smiles and disappears.

Azalea leans her head back and closes her eyes. For years, the only person who would talk to her was Dudley, and all this attention is making her very overwhelmed. She settles herself deeper into her seat and reads farther into the journal, daily entries of the summer before her aunt goes to Hogwarts.

The journal entries are small, but Azalea can still feel the excitement the girl had for going to school, the hurt, anger, and confusion surrounding her mothers hatred at magic, and the friendship she has with Severus, a friend she's mentioned before in her pre-Hogwarts journals.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rewritten as of 6/16/18

“Do you use this on the scar on your head?” Hermione asks her the next morning while putting the scar-removal on her back.

Azalea shakes her head, startled. She didn't think anyone had noticed her birthmark yet, since it was mostly surrounded by hair on her scalp, and the part of it that was on her forehead was covered by her bangs. “It's not a scar.” She tells the girl. “I've always had it.”

The look on the girls face shows that she didn't fully believe her, but she doesn't push it. It's such a stark contrast from the girls usual personality that Azalea is stunned.

***

Her second day, goes pretty much in the same vein as the first, with her classes being introductory classes and them getting out an hour earlier than they should. Dudley walks her to her first lesson of the day, and she lingers outside the door, not wanting to go without him. With a sigh, she grinds her teeth in determination and waves him away, starting her day without him.

Charms, with Professor Filius Flitwick, is going to be an even split between theory and practical lessons, while Transfiguration, with Professor Janko Idoni, leans more towards theory, since it's more complicated to accomplish. Both give them instructions to read parts of their books for class.

Potions excites Azalea. Their schools Potions Master, Professor Snape, is a prodigy, and their lessons are different than anywhere else due to it. The first few weeks they'll spend leaning how to properly prepare their ingredients, but after that they'll be taught about every aspect of potions. Knowing Professor Snape, she's not too upset that he's not the teacher of their class, plus Professor Walter Atwood is calm and helpful, and doesn't give them homework, so it's even better..

Everything they bought for potions, besides the book, is only for their practice outside of classes. The school provides everything for them in class, leaving Azalea really glad she doesn't have to figure out how to carry her cauldron to and from class.

After dinner, she and Dudley head down with the rest of their year to the training grounds. The nearly four hundred students in her year stand on the grass. Madam Hooch, the Quidditch referee, instructs them into groups of twenty to be instructed by her assistants.

Azalea and Dudley end in a mixed group. She recognizes Malfoy and Parkinson, and Dudley pulls her over to a Hufflepuff and introduces him as Ron Weasley. Azalea realizes, quickly, that this is her brothers version of Hermione. With that thought, she waves Hermione over to the small group and introduces her quietly.

Hermione quickly starts nervously spouting facts she had read on flying, and Ron argues with her that flying isn't something you can learn by reading about it. Azalea and Dudley watch the two with shock as they start arguing, and Azalea notes with confusion that Hermione was seeming calmer the longer they argued.

Old brooms, donated by quidditch teams when they upgrade, float to the students and settles in the air next to them. The assistants walk around, showing everyone the proper way to hold their broom, to the anger of Malfoy, who argues that his grip has been working since he was five. He doesn't change back to his old grip, however, when he's shown the proper one, so Azalea hopes he's not as rude as he seems.

The class is then separated even more, when the instructors tell them that anyone who is comfortable flying can test to the next part of the class right away with Madam Hooch. Most of the wizard-born children head over to her, including Ron, who shoots a sorry glance at Dudley before he goes. Most of their year, however, seems to be muggle-born, so three-quarters of them stay behind. Azalea's group is the first into the air, and Azalea falls in love.

Flying comes natural to her, she realizes immediately. She feels free for the first time in her life, and she laughs as fly's in a small circle around their instructor. Dudley seems to be somewhat natural at it too, and he follows her around at a slightly slower pace.

From another group she hears gasps, and she turns to see a blond boy from her house rising into the air, panicking. She leans forward and flies towards the boy, scowling as his broom flings away from her, toward the castle, she hears yells under her as she flattens herself against her broom in an effort to catch up to him. As she gets to him, his broom hits the castle, causing the boy to lean back. His broom, in response, shoots upwards.

She grabs his arm as he slides off his broom, and she gets pulled down with him, not strong enough to hold him up. Her broom slows their fall, but they both hit the ground hard, shaking with fear and adrenaline.

***

Azalea stumbles back into Neville and Hermione, nearly knocking them back through the portrait hole, as Oliver practically lunges at her. Arms hold him back, and Azalea gives a grateful glance to Katie as Oliver scowls at her. “I was only going to hug her.”

“Your hugs are terrifying, no first-year should be subjected to that.” Katie responds, releasing her grip on the Captain.

He stays the same distance away, but he starts smiling at her again, and Azalea feels a little like a fly caught in a spiderweb. “You are a natural. I was right about you. I've got permission from McGonagall to train you Tuesdays and Fridays after dinner. You can't be on the team this year, sadly, but I'm trying to work on that.” He smiles and hands her a book. “This is mine, but I want you to read it cover to cover.” He skips away quickly, and Azalea shares a bewildered look with Neville and Hermione before the three of them head to the first-year common room.

***

Everyone in first-year has Astronomy together Wednesday mornings in the Astronomy tower. The room has no windows to outside, but the image of the stars surrounds them, letting them study without the need of night or telescopes. Professor Sinistra loves her subject, a fact that is obvious in the way she looks at the stars around her while she tells them how their year is going to be before launching straight into her first lecture about how the movement of the moon can affect magic. The class is let out with the instruction write two feet on which spells are strongest under each faze of the moon.

After Astronomy, the class all goes together to their next class, Latin.

The idea of a language class spikes her interest. She speaks snake-language, and her primary school introduced them to Polish, but the former is a magical gift and the second she never really learned. In the end, she is a little disappointed to find they were studying the basics of Latin, not enough to become fluent in it. It would help their understanding of spells, they're told, and Azalea shares a small scowl with Dudley, leaving Ron confused. Their first lesson is basically a history lesson on the language.

After class they have lunch, followed by everyone's double class. Azalea heads, alone, to her Defense class, inwardly groaning at the fact that Malfoy was in the class with her, even if he did ignore her in favor of two large boys that follow him around. She's seen him more than once fighting with Ron and anyone near Ron, which includes Dudley.

Professor Quirrel made Azalea wish she had his class more than once a week. He was entertaining, had experience traveling the world, and seems to really enjoy his subject. At the front of the room a black crow sleeps on his windowsill, and he explains that animals often come to him for companionship if he's around due to a magical gift he was born with.

They're dismissed for a half-hour break after he gives them the typical first-day speech, and are somewhat surprised to find drinks and snacks available in the back of the room. Azalea grabs a treacle tart, having found she really enjoys them in small amounts, and walks around the room, avoiding being in the large group. She walks up to the crow, studying it with a furrowed brow. Her head gives twinges of pain and she looks away from the light coming in from the window.

“Do you like animals?” Her Professor asks, walking up behind her. She turns so he's in her line of sight and nods slightly. “He's been sick lately, unfortunately. I'm helping as much as you can help a wild animal.” Her head twinges again.

“I think whatever you did hurts my head.” She says quietly, running her hands through her hair. She smiles at him quickly before heading away from him and back to her desk.

Malfoy meets her at her desk, scowling. “Looking to be teachers pet, are you, Dursley?” He sneers at her. “Should have known you'd be the type.” She watches him with a blank face, not knowing how to diffuse the situation. He laughs at her silence, and she clenches her hands into fists. “Don't even have the nerve to talk, do you? Don't know how you ever got into Gryffindor.”

He leaves after laughing at her some more, leading his two groupies back towards where Parkinson was standing. Azalea looks down at the table, forcing herself un-clench her hands, despite still hearing the group of Slytherins laughing at her.

Eventually, Professor Quirrel calls the class back into session, and she lets herself ignore the snickering to write down notes on the lesson.

Once they get to dinner, Dudley cheers her up slightly, brandishing a letter from home for each of them. With Hermione, Neville, and Ron sitting with them she doesn't want to say what happened, but she does let her eyes linger on Malfoy with hurt in her eyes and she knows that he understands the basics.

***

They start the rest of their lessons over the next two days, and by Friday night Azalea is incredibly happy to be back on a broom. She waves off Hermione and Neville as she, Dudley, and Ron head to the Quidditch Pitch while the two Griffins, and most of the other muggle-borns, head to the training pitch to continue basic lessons.

The second part of Flying Classes are much more like the gym class Azalea is used to. They're going to be spending their days playing different broom games and getting more comfortable flying. Today, they learn Shuntbumps, a game where you fly low to the ground and try to bump each other off of their broom. The last one on their broom wins.

For the most part Azalea ignores the game, simply enjoying being in the air. She quickly dodges any time anyone comes close to her. Stopping her broom in the air, Azalea watches with a slack jaw as Draco rams into Ron, flinging him sideways through the air, crashing to the ground hard. Dudley drops onto the ground next to Ron's cursing form, and Azalea flies to his side and drops down as Draco gets reprimanded for being rough and gets disqualified.

***

Saturday Dudley and Azalea head to the Hospital Wing together. Most of the other Muggle-borns have already had appointments with Madam Pomfrey during the week, with the two of them seeming to be some of the last to go.

The exam goes as easily as the last one, with the Matron letting them know their stunted growth has almost been completely reversed, and that their bones are healed. They'll still use the bone strengthening potion, along with the two eyesight potions and the scar-removal, and they'll have an extra potion with every meal until they're fully caught up on the immunizations that a magic-raised child has.

With a warning that Professor Snape will be making sure they take the potions properly, the two of them are sent off to do their own thing.

They join up with Ron, Hermione, and Neville, and spend the day fully exploring the castle. Ron introduces them to the other Weasley brothers that are in the school, a fifth-year Slytherin named Percival, and a pair of twins, one in Slytherin and one in Ravenclaw, names Fred and George, or Gred and Forge, depending on who you ask.

Once curfew gets close, Azalea, Hermione, and Neville decide to hide away in the first-year common room to avoid the commotion from Gryffindors welcome-back party. With the sounds of people falling and things breaking from the house common room, Azalea heads to bed, not wanting to be awake with the knowledge that people are drinking near her. Her fathers drinking is what made him leave them in their mothers 'care' for years, and she really doesn't feel like listening to it.

***

Sunday, they get their first taste of dueling. Between breakfast and lunch, the Great Hall loses it's tables and gains dozens of dueling podiums. First-years didn't have any spells to duel with, but Dudley and Azalea sit close to each other and watch with apprehension, unsure about the use of magic to fight.

This is exactly what made their mother afraid of magic, they realize. It's dangerous. Azalea had wondered why there was a class on their schedule for Sundays, but this doesn't really seem to be a class at all. It was definitely more of a club. Her and Dudley leave the club after watching for a while and head outside, being seemingly the only people not watching the duels. They head out the doors closest to the Great Hall and find themselves near the bridge that she had seen from the boats the first night here.

The lake was down a deep hill off to their left and they head down to it, talking quietly about their weeks, both avoiding the topic that was on both of their minds. _This doesn't feel so bad._ After all, it's hard to hate something when your surrounded by people who embrace it. Azalea feels confused and torn, but more than anything she feels at ease. The mix of emotions leaves her throat clenching shut.

They settle down next to one of the trees near the lake and try to relax. They don't really know what to do with downtime at a magic school, but they enjoy being together, since they're so often pulled apart by their schedules. They accidentally skip lunch, and a platter of food appears next to them with their prescribed potions with a stern note from Professor Snape warning them away from missing any more meals. Hermione, Neville, and Ron wander up to them later with food in their hands, sheepishly spotting the tray of food.

“We brought you food, since you missed lunch.” Ron says with a laugh, setting sandwiches onto the tray with a shrug before looking out towards the water. “It's not gonna be warm for much longer. Think the waters nice?” Hermione scoffs and starts giving stats on why it is most definitely always cold in the lake, and Neville smiles and hands Azalea a treacle tart he brought her.

Ron, despite the warnings of cold water, still manages to get Dudley in the water with him, who pulls Azalea in after him. They stay in the water, which doesn't seem that cold to them, until Hermione yells to let them know it's time for dinner.

A bird splashes into the water behind them as they climb out. The three of them jump and turn, watching the black crow with alarm. “Think it's the one Quirrels fond of?” Neville asks, startling the three wet students. They watch it for another second, not seeing any sign of movement.

“Is it dead?” Hermione asks quietly.

Ron leans towards it. “Looks like it.”

“He did say it was sick.” Azalea says quietly, causing her friends to look at her strangely. She shrugs and pulls Dudley's arm, leading the group away from the water.

***

The next weeks develop a pattern of classes, homework, flying, gymnastics, and friends on the weekend. Azalea spends as much time as she can with Dudley, but finds herself increasingly lonely without her brother by her side.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rewritten on 6/16/18

The Tuesday before Samhain, the Wizarding Culture class uses the class time to get their heritage tested from Gringotts. Azalea stays close to Dudley as they follow Professor Oliver Sanderson through the floo, into a large circular room with dozens of doors and one large entryway. The two of them study the marble walls and jewel-decorated ceiling while their Professor introduces them to a goblin that is in charge of the tests.

One by one, they're taken into one of the many side rooms. Azalea and Dudley are called right after each other, and they give each other a smile before heading to the two different rooms. According to the Professor, the chance of them being descended from a squib family is strong since the two of them are both magical.

Azalea greets the sharp-toothed goblin with a small nod of the head, sitting in the small, uncomfortable chair that is offered for her.

“Hand out.” The goblin instructs her, and she flinches lightly at the sharp sting of the knife in the middle of her palm. A parchment is moved to catch a few drops of her blood, and she watches with a wretched awe as her blood acts as ink and writes.

Rose Euphemia Potter b. July 31 st , 1980

Mother: Lily Potter nee Evans (Deceased)

Father: James Fleamont Potter (Deceased)

Godfather: Sirius Orion Black

Godmother: Alice Regine Longbottom nee Fortescue

Heritage

Potter Matriarch (Paternal)

Gryffindor Matriarch (Maternal)

Slytherin Matriarch (Maternal)

Ravenclaw Matriarch (Maternal)

Hufflepuff Matriarch (Maternal)

Peverell Matriarch (Paternal)

Black Heir (Godfather Inheritance)

Longbottom Family (Godmother Inheritance) 

Azalea blinks at the paper in front of her, certain her eye prescriptions are messing with her vision.

“Well, Ms. Potter-”

“No.” She interrupts, unable to stop herself. “This cant be right. That's not even my birthday. My birthday's January 1st, not July.” She pales at her own outburst. “I'm sorry. It's just... My names Azalea Dursley. I'm the daughter of Petunia Evans, not Lily Evans.”

The goblin taps its hand on the paper. “The magic does not lie, Ms. Potter. I suspect you have merely been lied to by your guardians.” Azalea stays quiet, trying to process everything. The goblin, however, continues. “Now, if you wouldn't mind, I'd like to call Slipshard, who was the account manager to your parents, and arrange a meeting.”

Slowly, Azalea sinks into the seat. “Now?” She asks weakly, wanting nothing more than to talk this over with Dudley before doing anything. Or, better yet, ignore it all and forget she's anything other than Azalea Dursley. “Can you schedule something with my fath-” She cuts herself, realizing that he's not her actual father. “Can we schedule something with my guardian?” She rephrases, trying to make her brain work faster than it wants to. “Where we can all sit down, and you can explain all of this to me?”

In the end, the Goblin agrees to a meeting this Sunday, and it will be sending letters to her _guardian_ as well as the school, letting them know about the meeting, leaving the details vague.

***

Samhain is on Thursday. The magic-raised students floo home for the night so they can do the annual ritual with their family, while the muggle-borns stay at school and enjoy the day off. The muggle-borns who found out Tuesday that they were from a squib line are given the option to do the ritual on the grounds, and both Azalea and Dudley choose not to tell anyone about their relations to the founders of the school, and Azalea hasn't been able to bring herself to tell Dudley her true parentage, so the two of them opt out of the ritual.

Azalea spends the morning trying to get the practical work from class done with the help of her friends. Without any success, they head to their lunch-feast, where Dumbledore makes another speech about Lily and James Potter, and their unnamed child, reminding them all that this is the tenth anniversary of their death. Azalea losses her appetite, only the structure of her gymnastics coach's eating plan forcing her to eat.

After eating, they say goodbye to Ron and Neville outside of the Headmasters Office. Hermione and Dudley head down to the library, Hermione to enjoy herself and Dudley to catch up on homework, and Azalea heads to the gym, determined to not think about her bloodline.

She changes into her leotard and stretches herself out. Despite her initial hesitations, Azalea genuinely enjoys the sport. he's getting better faster than most of her house, and the working out and eating plan is helping her body grow.

She stretches her body out morning and night to work on her flexibility, and half of her gymnastics class time is spent working on her muscles.

She heads to the trampolines and works on some moves she can't land on the ground. Throughout the night she switches between the different events. On the mat she tries to perfect the moves she already knows before moving them to the bar. Doing the back-bend on the bar scares her more than she'd like to admit, but she moves slow and her core strength manages to keep her up when her hands miss. Once she feels comfortable, she works on her walkover.

On bars, she just works on her arm strength, not comfortable enough to try anything. She avoids vault all together. Her coach makes her practice on it during class, and she doesn't like running at anything, or jumping headfirst at it, and there's not much she can do on it until she gets more strength anyways.

Azalea works until an older Gryffindor catches her attention and lets her know dinner's only gonna last another hour. She glances at the time with shock and nods her thanks, heading quickly into the locker room to change and rinse off. After the thinly-veiled threat that was Professor Snape's warning to not miss any more meals during the first week of school, she's been careful.

Exiting the gym, she ducks to the side, dodging a head of recognizable, bushy, brown hair. “Oh, Azalea! We were coming to get you for dinner!” Dudley laughs as Hermione uses the door to steady herself. Azalea smiles at her friends and links her arms through theirs, leading them to the stairs, Hermione excitedly telling her about all the additional research she did on the levitation charm for her charms homework.

They make it down two floors when they hear something a crash. The three students share a worried look. “Think someone's hurt?” Azalea asks quietly, walking towards the noise, Hermione falling into step with her.

Dudley's hand wraps around her arm, pulling her backwards and around a corner. “Wait.” He cautions, peering into the hallway. “Do you hear that?” He asks, causing Azalea and Hermione to join him in watching the end of the hallway. Faintly, she can hear a dragging sound and a grunting, huffing breathing. A form appears in their view, lumbering around a corner, bigger than the man that led the to the boats their first nights here.

“That's a troll.” Hermione squeaks as the figure pulls a club the same size as them. “They're supposed to be stupid, how did it get into the school?” The troll looks in their direction, eyes locking onto to them.

“Doesn't matter, we've got it's attention now.” Azalea says as the troll lets out a roar. “Run!” They turn and run down the castle, the trolls loud steps gaining ground on them as they make turn after turn. Only a few paces in front of their pursuer, Azalea and her friends take on last, desperate turn.

“Whoa, what are you three up to.” Professor Quirrel asks them, placing his hands on her shoulders to steady her. _Seriously?_ She thinks. _Do you not hear that?_ She opens her mouth to respond.

“Duck!” Hermione yells, and Azalea and Dudley drop to the ground. Their Professor is hit across the shoulders hard, flinging him into a wall. The troll roars in victory, and Azalea takes the distraction to grab her friends and start running again. They make it to the door at the end of the hallway by the time the troll remembers them, and Azalea cries out, unable to open the door.

Hermione shoves her and Dudley to the side. “Move over. Alohomora!” She tries the door again, giving a frustrated moan when it doesn't open. The troll starts charging at them, and Hermione pulls them slightly to the side. “Open Sesame!” She yells again, causing the door to rip itself from its hinges and tear itself into smaller pieces. The troll follows its momentum into the room and Azalea turns and runs back the way they came.

The sound of the trolls roar is followed by a growl and a howl. The group of three stop at the end of the hallway and look back in shock. “What was through that door?” Dudley wonders out loud, voice shaking. The wall around the door breaks, and the troll falls through with a dog, even larger than the troll, pinning it down. It's middle head howls, the left bends down to bit one of the trolls arms, and the right gets hit by the trolls club.

“Run.” Azalea squeaks to her friends again, and they leave the two creatures behind. Azalea reaches the staircase, nearly knocking the Muggle Culture Professor down them. “What are you three doing-”

“Troll.” Hermione wheezes, followed by Azalea gasping out “Dog” and Dudley nearly shouting “Three heads!” They all point behind them, their words being emphasized by both the troll and the dog howling.

Professor Sanderson instructs them briskly to head to the Great Hall before he yells after a painting that was running through the frames down the hall. “Tell all teachers 'Third floor corridor, now'.”

“But I was just told to tell the students-”

“Just do it!” He yells at the painting who nods and run in the direction it was just coming from. The Professor shoos them down the stairs once more before taking a deep breath and heading towards the fighting.

Hermione leads Azalea and her brother down the stairs. “Of course it's the third floor corridor!” She breathes out. “No wonder it's forbidden.”

“Forbidden?” Azalea doesn't remember anywhere being forbidden. Dudley shares her confused look, and Hermione huffs.

“Well, no, not exactly. They put up all sorts of wards around it to keep people out though, I heard some older students talking about it. Notice that we didn't even notice it was there before tonight, even though we've explored all over this floor.”

Azalea and Dudley looks back at the loud, broken corridor, thinking the same thing. “Then how did we get through so easily tonight?”

***

Their lunch-feast the next day fits with Azalea's idea of Halloween. Candy, desserts, and brightly colored food. Hermione scowls at the candy before blinking at it and slowly reaching out to grab a piece of chocolate fudge. “I've never been allowed candy.” She whispers, almost to herself.

Azalea laughs at her friend and grabs a serving of an actual food dish while Dudley pats Hermione on the back. “Eat something real too.” He tells her. “Trust me, 'Lea and I learned that the hard way.” He jumps into the story of when his father bought them a large bag of candy over the summer. It was the first time they ever got the chance to eat any, and Dudley had tried everything, pulling her along for the ride. They both got sick quickly, and both promptly lost any sweet tooth they might have had. They are getting a bit of it back, now that they know how to eat it in moderation.

Ron and Neville slide into the benches next to them. “Is it true?” Ron asks, making a plate of candy and desserts. At the three confused looks he receives, he sighs. “Everybody's talking about you guys, saying you took down a Mountain Troll. Well, some say you actually took down a Cerberus, and others say you actually attacked Professor Quirrel, but most agree on the troll. I bet you're gonna be the main story on the school paper Monday.”

Hermione huffs. “Oh, honestly! We ran from the troll, first of all. And then distracted it with a Cerberus while we got away. We told the whole story to the Professors last night.” Ron snorts, mouth full of food.

“The whole school thinks you three are some sort of prodigies now.” Neville tells them, eyes not able to leave Ron's eating habits. Dudley and Azalea scoff at the same time. The two of them have been kept after repeatedly in both Charms and Transfiguration to discuss why they couldn't do even the simplest of magic. The end decision was that their mothers beliefs in magic -something all of the teachers apparently have been informed about- is still something that's affecting them, and it's making it so they can't be aware of their magic.

Professor Quirrel enters the room from the teachers entrance, and Azalea points him out to Dudley and Hermione with a smile of relief that he was alright. His newest bird companion, a gray dove, joins him. He seems to have a different one each week, although if they were all dying like the crow they don't know.

The five of them eat and talk together for the rest of the feast, falling quiet with the rest of the school as their Headmaster stands at his seat. “I would like to make a few announcements. First, welcome back, and may your ancestors blood magic flourish in your core. Second, I have heard of an adventure that happened yesterday in my absence.” Azalea shares a nervous look, shrugging at Hermione who mouths 'are we in trouble' to her. “So, to Dudley and Azalea Dursley, for surviving against a terrible foe, 10 points each. And to Hermione Granger, for the foresight and ability to perform spellwork under pressure, 20 points.” The three of them gape at each other. He doesn't even seem to care that they were in a forbidden area of the school. “And finally, a reminder of the ball tonight. The doors will be opened at five, and it will end at midnight. We ask you all to be responsible. Madam Pomfrey will be in the hospital wing until dinner begins, in case you require anything from her. All students should be in their own common room no later than one o'clock in the morning.” He dismisses them with a wave of his hands, and the three Griffindors leave the Hufflepuff table and join their house in heading back to their common rooms to get ready for the dance.

Oliver Wood wraps his arm around her shoulder as they head to their common room. “So, just how much of the rumors are true, my little protegee?” Azalea rolls her eyes and tells him a quick version of the story, causing him to sigh in relief. “Good. Couldn't have you running around intentionally getting into life-threatening situations. At least, not until your a fourth year and I'm graduated.” Azalea laughs a little, causing him to smile, and she blushes lightly.

***

Three hours later, the two girls stands together in their bathroom, looking at themselves in the mirror. They hardly look the same, both of their unruly hair tamed into curls using some wizarding hair potion, and wearing dresses.

Azalea's dress is black and simple, a corset on top with the bottom being flowy and shear, becoming more see-through the closer it gets to the ground. It came with red ankle boots that have heels, and a red leather jacket that Azalea was shocked to find herself falling in love with.

Hermione's dress is a light blue, sleeves not reaching her arms, tight around her torso becomes looser from her hips, down to where the dress ends at her knees. A layer of white fabric lays under the blue, unable to be seen until Hermione spins and her dress flares out, showing both colors. She pairs it with white heels and a matching set of jewelry.

“I feel like the girly-girl my mom always wanted to make me.” Hermione frowns at her reflection. Her earrings, ring, and necklace are all simple, but still not something Azalea had ever seen the girl wearing. Azalea gives a soft laugh and pulls her friend out the door into their bedroom, their roommates having had left already to get to the dance as soon as it opens. “Eager to see if Oliver will ask you to dance?” Hermione teases her, causing Azalea to throw her a scowl. They meet up with Neville in the first-year common room, eyeing his red and black striped suit.

“Gran picked it out for me.” He says with a cringe, obviously feeling uncomfortable in the outfit. Hermione smiles at him, letting him know her parents picked out hers as well, and they head down to the Great Hall with smiles. Dudley, in a black tuxedo with a yellow tie, and Ron, in a worn-down gray suit, meet them at the door, and they claim one of the many circular tables, which changes size and seats to fit the five of them, filling itself with snacks and a glass for each of them to get them through the night.

Hermione perks up as the song changes. “Does the wizarding world have their own artists?” She asks the two pure-bloods in their circle.

“We do.” Ron says, uninterested. “But this is a muggle holiday, so of course we're gonna use muggle music.” Hermione nods thoughtfully, listening to the music and swaying slightly in her seat. The fact that Azalea can hear the music at all with the couple of thousand students in the Hall astounds her before she remembers she's at a magic school.

“So,” Hermione plays with her empty cup, “I don't actually know how to dance.” The rest of them assure her that they don't know, either, and they simply pick up a conversation instead of dancing. They spend the next two hours laughing and eating, and Katie bounces up to them out of breath.

“Have you guys even danced once?” She asks Azalea, who gives her a guilty look.

“We don't actually know how to dance.” Hermione reasons to the older girl.

She only gains herself a disappointed look. “Nobody besides the Ravenclaw knows how to dance. It's about letting loose and having fun.” The first-years all look at her blankly and she sighs dramatically before grabbing Azalea and pulling her to the floor. “It's your first Hogwarts dance. You need to actually dance.” She pulls her over to two other girls. “Angelina, Alicia, we have a dance emergency.” The two look behind Azalea with a smirk.

“All of them?” One of them asks, and Azalea doesn't need to turn to know her entire group has followed them.

The girls work on them for a while with a smile, slowly convincing them to relax and not worry about looking stupid. They start to really enjoy themselves, dancing to the Halloween-themed music that was mixed in with a bit of every genre of music. A slow song comes on, releasing the first-years from their instructors.

Almost to her seat, Azalea finds herself pulled out onto the dance floor once again. She looks up into eyes that match Ron's, a pale blue mixed with green and brown, and the signature Weasley hair, and she flounders. “I think you kidnapped me.” She says weakly. He laughs at her, placing her right hand on his shoulder and grabbing the left with his own. Azalea glances around her and spots Hermione in the same position as her, with the same person as her.

He smirks at her, pulling her so she moves in time with him. “Freddie and I have to know all of our baby brothers friends. Make sure he's not hanging out with any troublemakers.” She rolls her eyes at him, fully aware of the twins' reputation. They have an entire paged dedicated to their pranks in the school paper every week. “And to think you played us! When we met you, you seemed all innocent, and we knew Neville already of course, so we figured you three Gryffs would be safe to have around Ronnie-kins.” He spins her quickly, drawing a surprised laugh from her. “Thought you three were quiet, studious, rule followers.” _So, not worth your time._ She thinks, raising an eyebrow at him. “And then you two went and led a troll on a rampage through our lovely school, and dragged poor Dudley along for the ride.”

He dances with her for the rest of the song, trying to pull information out of her. She refuses to talk to him, not counting her first startled sentence, and she can practically feel his happiness at having a challenge. The music ends, and he bows to her dramatically, grinning at her.

Shouts erupt behind her, causing her to turn and quickly step away from the trouble, an instinct her mother left in her. She backs into the Weasley she was dancing with, and he places his hand on her hip quickly to steady her, snapping her back to reality.

Azalea fights to settle her heart and breathing, clenching her hand as she strains to hear the cause of the commotion.

“Malfoy.” She growls out, recognizing the voice. With an idea of whats happening, she pushes through the crowd, spotting Ron just as he lunges at Malfoy. Crabbe and Goyle move to grab Ron, only to be stopped by tackles from Neville and Dudley. Azalea moves forward to try to stop the fighting and spots Parkinson raising her wand to her brothers back. Azalea swings her arm and punches the girl in the face. Hermione appears next to her, wand pointed at Zabini, who has his wand pointing at her.

Dudley and Neville pull Ron off of Malfoy and join her and Hermione, the five of them creating a circle against the Slytherins.

The crowd parts and McGonagall heads towards them, scowling.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rewritten as of 6/28/2018

“So, is my name Rose or Azalea?” Azalea asks Slipshard quietly.

The goblin frowns. “Technically speaking, you are both. When you were born, your parents made sure you had a birth certificate that would work in the Wizarding world, as well as the Muggle one.” He slides the two certificates towards her and Dudley, followed by a few more pages. “In the Muggle world, you were legally adopted by Petunia and Vernon Dursley, and your name changed to Azalea Dursley. However, your guardians failed to make it official in the wizarding world. Therefore, as far as any magical contract or inheritance, your name is still Rose Euphemia Potter.”

Dudley raises his hand slightly. “But at Hogwarts they call her Azalea.”

Slipshard nods, shuffling her papers back into a pile. “That is where the problem lies. Wizards know you exist, but they do not have any way to confirm your birth or death as Gringotts holds the only copies of your birth certificates other than the copy of the Muggle one that was used in your adoption.”

Azalea shares a lost look with Dudley. “So, what?” He asks. “What does that mean?”

“It means,” The goblin sighs, clearly used to working with adults, “that, until we decide what to do, nothing's going to change. When you are ready, the wills of Lord and Lady Potter need to be read, your inheritances need to be accepted, and your accounts need to be handled.”

“And if I don't want to?” Azalea asks quietly. “What if I don't want anything?”

Slipshard studies her critically, pulling out a paper and looking at it. “As most of your inheritances are passed down through your bloodline, they would sit, unused, until your children inherit them. In the case you don't have children, they would be passed to your closest blood relative. The Black inheritance, however, would be passed to the next in the Black bloodline when you die.”

The three of them take a break for lunch, with Azalea and Dudley taking their prescription boxes out of their satchels. They sit close together, sitting in silent as they eat and wait for their father to show up. A few minutes before their group appointment is scheduled, their father walks into the room. A sickness rises in Azalea's chest and she avoids his eyes, instead watching Dudley as he looks back and forth between everybody in the room.

“Mr Dursley, I am Slipshard, the Potter Vault Manager.” Slipshard walks in from his office.

Something in her father deflates as he puffs his chest slightly. “And what does that have to do with us?”

Slipshard scowls. “You are here because Ms. Azalea requested your presence.”

Azalea locks her eyes onto the goblin, ignoring her fathers stare. “We took a test to see if we had any wizards in our family tree.” Dudley rubs her hand with his thumb calmingly as he speaks. “They show you any family members who have magic in their blood that affects you. 'Lea's test...” Dudley trails off, and she shoots him a sorry look, silently apologizing for not finding the time to tell him anything before she pulled him away this morning for the meeting.

Their father sighs. “The adoption. You found out.” Azalea's breath catches in her throat, unable to believe he just admitted it. She looks down at the ground and squeezes her eyes shut, as though that would make her unable to hear. “You're mother was called to the hospital, really early the morning after Halloween. They had found you, with your birth certificate, in the lobby of the hospital, abandoned. She stayed up there in a hotel for a few nights while I was home with Dudley, and by the time she came home your name was changed and your adoption papers were being filed. It was the first of the next year when the papers came through and you were legally ours, so she decided to make that your birthday and never tell you your real one to separate you more from the life she didn't want you to have.”

“Were you ever going to tell us?” Dudley asks, holding tightly to Azalea's hand. “Does anyone know? Grandma and Grandpa?” Azalea flinches lightly. She hadn't even thought about them. They had mentioned that they hadn't heard from Aunt Lily in years, and now she knows why. Who is going to tell them she's dead, a war hero to the world they are so proud that she was a part of.

“No.” Their father walks towards them slowly. “We never told anybody, and until you two got your letters, I wasn't going to tell you. After then, I knew you might find out, but I hoped you wouldn't.”

Azalea feels sick again. He was just going to lie to them their whole lives. For a fleeting moment, she wishes she was living with her mother again so she could know exactly what to expect.

They're interrupted by Slipshard. “This is all very important. However, if we can move this into the meeting room, we do have a lot to discuss together.”

***

Two hours later, Azalea stumbles out of the floo into Headmaster Dumbledore's office. They haven't decided whether or not she would accept her inheritances, but her father made sure he knew the important details about all of the bloodlines, as well as the main points of what being a matriarch or heir means in the wizarding world. Most of the details weren't something Azalea focused on, but Dudley had seemed just as interested as their father.

Dudley exits the floo after her, and the two of them wander through a few of their groups most common meeting places, eventually finding them at their spot by the lake, spending all the time outside they can before snow comes.

“I can't believe Percy told on me.” Ron is grumbling and rubbing his ear as they approach. “He never tells mom about Fred and George getting in trouble.”

Hermione scoffs. “Yes, Ronald, we know. Besides, you don't know that he doesn't tell on them. The two of them prank people, Ron, nobody ever gets hurt.” She emphasizes the last word, giving him a long look. “I doubt it's enough to be worth the effort. You started a fistfight in the middle of a dance. I'd say that means you more than deserve the howler.”

Ron sputters at her. “A fistfight you joined, remember? Isn't that why you spent hours in detention with us this morning?”

“I didn't fight.” She bites back, raising her chin. “I just kept Blaise out of the fight.”

“Azalea! Dudley!” Neville gestures largely in their direction. “How did your meeting with Gringotts go?”

Azalea blinks slowly, wishing she didn't have to open her eyes again. Silently, she sits down next to Hermione, resting her head on her friends shoulder. “Exhausting.” Dudley answers Neville, joining the boys at the edge of the lake in throwing rocks into the water.

Hermione pulls her hair off to the other side of her head, leaving Azalea's face on her soft sweater. “You okay?” Her friend asks quietly, keeping her eyes unfocused on the book in her lap. Azalea lifts her head slightly and swallows her dry throat. Her voice refuses to cooperate as she tries to answer, and instead she lays her head back down, burrowing her face slightly more into the soft material than before. “I've been looking into that dog and troll we found. Listen to this.” She can feel Hermione shifting as she opens the book back up and flips through the pages.

Shifting her head slightly, Azalea relaxes against her friend, looking at the book as Hermione reads passages on magical creatures to her.

***

An hour later, Azalea and Dudley are standing in the potions corridor, unsure about which door leads to the cauldron room where their detention is supposed to be held.

“Good, you're not late.” The Potion Masters drawling voice echoes down the hall as his dark figure stalks towards them. Azalea studies the man critically. His straight black hair falls to his shoulders, mouth molded into a scowl that seems to match his hooked nose. “Follow me.” He walks off briskly, black trench coat flaring out behind him. They enter a room at the end of the hall that is filled with filthy cauldrons. “Seeing as neither of you have had detention with me before, let me inform you of what you need to know. You will wash cauldrons by hand until you are dismissed. To the left of the door are your cleaning supplies. They have their instructions on them. Dirty cauldrons are on the back wall. Put every finished cauldron on the right side of the door for later inspection. I expect them all to be spotless. You will not talk to each other. This is not social time. I will be through that door, brewing, should you need anything.”

His tone clearly tells them to not need anything, and he leaves through the door, leaving it open behind him. Dudley rolls his eyes, moving towards the supplies. “Same ol-” Azalea turns towards him as he's cut off, watching his mouth keep moving without sound coming out. She moves towards him, both of them confused.

“What part of no talking do you dunderheads not understand?” The Potions Master growls at them, wand pointed lazily at Dudley. “Due to your inability to listen to simple directions, I've made it easier for you.”

Azalea keeps her face carefully neutral, not wanting to upset him any more. Dudley nods his understanding, and the professor leaves the room again.

After two hours of feeling as though they were back in their mothers kitchen, cleaning dishes silently under fear of punishment, a greasier version of Professor Snape dismisses them, canceling his spell on Dudley. Somehow, the familiar feeling of the work had calmed her drastically, and she gives Dudley a small smile as they head to dinner.

***

“I can't believe that-” Hermione waves her arms in the air, seemingly unable to find words to express herself. “That jerk is the same guy who revolutionized our potions class.” Azalea looks up from Dudley's homework she was helping him with. Ron's been riling them all up since dinner began with stories he got from his brothers about the Potions Master.

“Bet he's used his knowledge for all sorts of evil.” Ron responds, grabbing another cupcake from the dessert plates.

Azalea points towards a line that Dudley can use as a reference. “He's not so bad.” She argues softly. He had visited her and Dudley in the hospital constantly, so maybe she was just used to his attitude. “It's not like he's a teacher, anyway. Aren't genius's always not people people, anyway?”

Ron and Neville give her a slightly confused look, but Hermione frowns. “Some genius's are very charismatic...” She responds, before sighing and giving in. “I guess there are a lot of reclusive ones, though.”

“Speaking of charismatic genius's,” Neville changes the subject, looking at Ron, “have the Twins said if either of their teams are playing next Saturday?”

Ron's demeanor shifts with the subject of Quidditch. “They say neither of their teams are playing, so it's not the Eagles or the Scorpions. I bet it's gonna be Hufflepuff versus Gryffindor. Azalea, you hear anything from Wood about the game?”

“Anyone in Gryffindor would be able to tell you the Lions are playing. He's so proud about Gryffindor starting the season, it's all he talks about in the common room.” Azalea falls out of the conversation as Neville and Ron start talking about possible outcomes of the game.

***

Reading the journal of Lily Evans in History of Magic, Azalea nudges Dudley, getting his attention and pulling out their notebook.

Do you think this is talking about Professor Snape? She asks, pointing to a section that mentions a boy named Severus Snape.

It could be a brother. He answers, shrugging. Would explain why he was the one they asked to come talk to us about magic.

Azalea frowns. They had spent a long time coming up with theories about why he was at their house with Professor McGonagall when the incident with their magic happened. If he was childhood friends with their aunt, their grandparents must have known him and could have called him to help them.

That's why he visited us in the hospital.

***

After class, she decides to satisfy her curiosity. She and Dudley separate to grab their Herbology books, and she heads down to the dungeons instead of up to Gryffindor tower. She swallows her nerves in the cauldron room and knocks on the door to the room he was brewing in during her detention.

She jumps back as the door swings open, the surly Potions Master scowling at her. “Ms. Dursley.” He greets, looking behind him briefly. “Five points from Gryffindor for interrupting someone while they are brewing.”

“I'm sorry, sir.” She answers immediately, forcing herself through her words. “I just had to know if you knew my Aunt as a child.” He raises an eyebrow at her, and she speaks faster. “She had written some childhood journals before she went to Hogwarts, and she mentioned a friend of hers named Severus Snape, and I didn't really think about it until it came up again in a section I was reading today, and Dudley says maybe you have a brother or something, but that would mean you still probably knew her-”

“Ms. Dursley.” Professor Snape interrupts her, snapping her out of her nervous rambling. “As a rule, you typically give someone the name of the person you want them to speak about. Most people do not know of your relations.” He pauses, and she sinks into herself. “However, as it happens your family is something I used to be very familiar with.” He pauses again, and she blinks up at him, processing. “Yes, I did know your aunt. We were friends as long as we could be.”

***

Quidditch, she finds, is not nearly as interesting as the school had made it out to be, despite Dudley, Neville, and Ron's enthusiasm. The game ends after hours of her sitting in the stands, with the Lions falling behind slowly until they barely squeak out a win by catching the snitch against the Snakes. “Well, that was boring.” Azalea complains to her two Gryffindor friends after Ron and Dudley head back to their own dorms.

Neville chuckles, leading them up the stairs. “Don't let Wood hear you say that.”

“As long as she'll be on the team next year, he wouldn't care if she hated flying all together.” Hermione rolls her eyes. “Don't you remember him skipping around for days after our first flying lesson?” Azalea laughs, remembering Katie telling her about how he cried in the stands that day watching her catch Neville. They enter the common room, coming to a stop at the party that was being set up. “Try to survive the window seat or go to our common room?” Hermione asks.

The three of them share a quick look before heading up the stairs to the safety of the first-year common room.

***

The last day of November, the group walks towards the Quidditch match for the fourth game of the year. The Gryffindor's talking about the New Year Ball that was going to happen before they left the school for Christmas, and the Hufflepuff's talking animatedly about the Badgers prospects against the Ravens. Ron grows quiet, eyes drifting over Dudley's shoulder, face softening into curiosity. “Is that smoke?” Azalea and the rest of the group follow his gaze, spotting the heavy, black smoke quickly.

“Looks like it could be from Hagrid's hut.” Dudley proposes, him and Ron sharing a nervous look. “Maybe it's just from his chimney.”

“There is no way that that is chimney smoke.” Hermione huffs as Azalea looks at her brother closely.

How does he know someone she doesn't? “Who's Hagrid?” She asks quietly.

It's Ron who answers her, his tone distracted. “He's the groundskeeper. My brother Charlie was close to him, and asked me to visit him sometimes.” She furrows her brows and opens her mouth to ask how Dudley knew him.

“Should we go check it out?” Neville trembles in the cold. Ron starts moving forward, not bothering to respond. The rest of them follow quickly, the mystery making them forget the Quidditch game that's starting. The Forbidden Forest comes into view as they make it over a hill, and the group comes to a surprised stop at the glow coming from the small wooden hut.

A series of barks reaches their ears. “Is there a dog in there?” Hermione gasps, horrified. Azalea throws herself into a run, her friends falling behind her. The crackle of the fire, a familiar sound form the common room, suddenly seems sinister. She makes it near the hut, out of breath and coughing from the smoke. The barking slows down, coming in sporadic bursts. The top of the large door starts flaming by the time she reaches it, and she grabs the large handle and pushes, the door swinging open with a groan.

Something flies past her head and she ducks, patting her hair down in fear of embers. She looks around the house, eyes watering. A whimper reaches her ears and she follows it, rounding a small corner to a large table. Under it a Great Dane peeks out at her, whimpering weakly. “Come on, boy, let's go.” She croaks out, holding her hand out to her hand to it. The ceiling croaks as the dog shuffles forward towards her, liking her hand pitifully. She looks up at alarm, panic setting it. “Come on!” She grabs the dogs collar and pulls. To her surprise, the dog allows her to move him, cowering close to her. She leads it back around the corner to the door, a glimpse of blue and gray against the red and black of the fire.

The ceiling groans again, and she glances up. The ceiling gets closer to her quickly and she throws her body over the dog, who curls up under her. Nothing hits her, and she risks another glance up. The section of ceiling is floating above her, and Dudley stands in the doorway, wand raised and face twisted in concentration.

Azalea climbs back to her feet and pulls the collar, leading the whimpering dog to the door. When they reach Dudley, he drops his arm and grabs her, pulling them both away from the hut as the ceiling crashes to the ground. Azalea falls to the ground once they get away from the heat, coughing, throat sandpaper.

Dudley plops down next to her in the grass. “What were you thinking, running in there after Fang like that?” He asks her incredulously.

Azalea stares at him in shock, and Hermione explodes as Fang whines again, resting his head on Azalea. “What was she supposed to do, let him die?” Azalea jumps and looks around, spotting her and Ron behind where she was collapsed on the dead grass. One member of their little group was missing.

“Wh-” She stops, interrupted by another coughing fit. Slowly, she steadies herself. “Neville?” She asks weakly.

“He went to get Hagrid.” Hermione answers her briskly. “Unlike you, we didn't all run straight into the fire.” Azalea nods and closes her eyes, laying back and resting a hand on the Great Dane that was still cowering, curled up beside her. Creatures in the forest off to her side rustle through bushes, and she glances in that direction briefly before closing her eyes again in pain.

“Guys.” Ron quietly whispers, voice shaking. “Get up. Now.”

She looks at her friend in confusion, following his gaze back to the forest. The creature that was rustling made it out of the forest was a black, skinny, leathery creature with small horns. It's body was a long as her fathers legs, and she watches in horrible fascination as it sprays fire from its mouth. Hermione squeaks behind her. “Is that-”

“A dragon.” Ron confirms as it swings it's head, orange eyes watching them atop it's long snout and wide nostrils, in their direction. “And you just got it's attention. Run!” Azalea gets a horrible feeling of deja-vu as she scrambles to her feet, shoving Fang after her friends. The dragon spreads its wings, large and spindly, and blows a stream of fire in their direction.

She runs, pain disappearing. Dudley, the closest to her, looks back at her and yells, waving his arm to the side. She takes the hint and dives to the side, the dragon leaping through the place she previously occupied.

The small creature turns, facing her down. She looks around, trying to find a way out as Dudley yells at her again. This time, he attracts the dragons attention and it turns to him quickly, blowing a stream of fire in his direction. Quickly, she pulls her satchel off and hits the dragon hard enough to knock it to the side, quickly helping her brother shed his jacket, the right sleeve burning.

“Norbert!” A voice booms, and Azalea and Dudley watch in shock as the giant man who got them onto the boats after the train-ride comes thundering down the hill. He grabs the dragon like a chicken, folding its wings under his hands. “You jus' startl'd 'im, is all.” Azalea blinks at him, throat pain making itself known again with a coughing fit.

“Pomfrey.” Azalea rasps out to her brother, and he nods at her, grimacing in pain. They turn together and head towards the Quidditch pitch, Azalea wrapping her arm with her brothers uninjured one. Professor McGonagall storms past them, and they reflexively grimace at the angry woman.

Ron, Hermione, Neville, and Fang meet them outside the Quidditch pitch, and Ron joins the two of them on the walk up the stairs to the 'adult' section of the stands, coming to a halt as all of the professors turn to look at them as one. Madam Pomfrey jumps up and heads towards them. “What happened?” She asks tightly, studying Dudley's blistering skin.

“Fire.” Azalea rasps out as Dudley responds. “Dragon.” Madam Pomfrey looks between them critically before her eyes jump to Ron. “Hagrid.” He says, and that seems to make sense to all of the teachers. Almost as one, they stand and make their way down the other side, running off in the direction of the hut.

“Let's get you to the hospital wing.” She ushers them down the stairs, and Ron starts going through the story for the med-witch.

In the Hospital Wing, she watches as the woman fusses over her brothers burn. She fights back a cough, not wanting to distract from his care. Fang puts his head under her hand and moans, and she smiles weakly, bending down to the abnormally large dog and comforting him. Unable to fight the coughs anymore, she pushes her face into the dogs scruff, hoping to muffle the sounds.

“Get in the bed, dear. I'm almost done.” Madam Pomfrey tells her, and she moans before following the instructions and sitting on the edge of the bed next to her brother. “It'll scar, and you're going to have to stay the night while it heals.” She tells him, already bustling over to Azalea and examining her eyes and throat, and casting a quick charm. “Smoke damage. Not a problem, we'll get you fixed right up. Don't fight the coughs, it will only make them worse.”

Fang props his head on her leg, partially shoving the med-witch out of the way. Azalea laughs. “Fang too?” She asks tentatively. Madam Pomfrey gives a hum of acknowledgment before shoving two potions into her hands.

“Fang will be taken care of by Professor Grubbly-Plank.” Azalea smiles and takes the potions quickly. “As soon as this whole dragon business is dealt with, I'll make sure she hunts him down and takes care of him. You're free to go, dear. Dudley needs rest, but I'll give you five minutes before you have to leave.”

Madam Pomfrey leaves them alone, and Azalea moves over to her brothers side, ignoring the bandages. “Guess you unblocked your magic.” She tells him lightly, watching as he lights up.

 _It's crazy how much has changed since school started._ She thinks, sighing.

***

The five of them are on the way to what is, for most of them, their last detention when the twins run into them, leading a young man through the halls towards them. “Charlie!” Ron yells, running towards his brother. “You didn't tell me you were coming!”

The man smiles. “That's because I didn't know until last night.”

“Of course he had to come-” The twins start, one constantly picking up where the other leaves off. “Since there is a dragon-” “And of course you were there-” “Since it seems Azalea is always-” “Right there in the middle-” “Of trouble.” They finish together, one of them sending her a wink. She wonders, briefly which one she had danced with. They both have moles on their jaws, on opposite sides, but she can't remember noticing it while they danced.

Ron introduces them all quickly, and Hermione smiles politely before reminding them all that they didn't want to be late for their detention.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rewritten (Barely) on 6/28/2018

“Fang refuses to even go near Hagrid.” Hermione tells Azalea, the dog following her into the mostly empty courtyard. Spotting Azalea, the dog perks up and runs up to her, trying to lay it's over-sized body on her lap. Azalea grunts at the weight and Hermione laughs at her. “I think he's claiming you. Maybe you should tell your parents to expect a dog for Christmas.”

Azalea shoots her a cold look. “I'm sure he'll forgive Hagrid for locking him in a hut with a baby dragon at some point.” She deadpans, looking behind Hermione expectantly. “Where's 'Lee?”

Hermione rolls her eyes. “The boys decided to stay and help Hagrid rebuild his house. Honestly, you should hear him, crying about that dragon as if he lost a child. He said he's been to the Hogs Head, the pub he got the egg, every night this past week. As if that'll help him move on.” Azalea scowls, ignoring the pang in her stomach at the thought of her brother spending time with the reckless man.

“He's an alcoholic?” She asks, thinking of her father. Hermione shrugs and settles down next to her, arms touching. Azalea calms slightly at the contact and leans into it before grabbing her bag. “Herbology?” She asks, getting an 'of course' look thrown her way in response. The two of them pull out their notebooks and books, swapping notes about their classes. Throughout their first semester, the two Herbology courses only covered two of the same plants, and Hermione obsessively studies both classes lessons, convincing Azalea and Neville, who are in the class together, to do the same. Ron and Dudley share the class with Hermione, but stay determined to only study what they need to.

Azalea marks the notes from Hermione with an H, her only mark telling her that it wasn't something from her course. She doodles a picture of the wolfsbane next to her notes idly as a Ravenclaw girl from their year approaches them.

“This is the dog you saved, right?” She asks Azalea, bending down and scratching Fang behind the ears. Azalea nods, studying the girl. She is in her Transfiguration class, the type of person who is quiet, but talk to her partner during downtime, unlike Azalea who doesn't talk at all in class unless called on. “I'm Padma Patil.” She introduces herself to Hermione. “But please, call me Padma.” Hermione introduces herself briskly before turning back to her notes.

Padma turns back to Azalea, cheeks brightening. “Uh, just thought I should let you know I heard some upper-years talking about asking you to the New Years Ball.” She turns more pink and starts stumbling over her words. “Normally, you know, I wouldn't worry about it. But, uh, they aren't doing it for any good reasons that I could hear and I don't really want you to get hurt.” Padma stands abruptly, holding her hands in front of her. “Not specifically you, of course. I wouldn't want anyone to get hurt...” The girl trails off and Azalea fights to keep her confusion off of her face.

“So, I should say no?”

“Yeah!” She says, putting her hands behind her back. “I mean, if you want to, you could let them down easy and say you already have a date.”

Frowning lightly, Azalea shoots a confused look at her friend, who almost seems to want to laugh. “I don't like lying to people.” She says carefully, confusion increasing.

Blush returning full force, Padma refuses to meet her eyes. “Well, if you want, you could be my date.”

 _Is that what she came over here to ask?_ Azalea wonders, mouth dropping open slightly. “Oh.” She says simply, looking at Hermione. Her friend gestures towards Padma quickly, and Azalea finds words coming out of her mouth before she can think. “I mean, I was planning on going to the dance with my friends, not that that turned out well last time, and I don't really know how to dance at all, and I really don't know anything about going on a date. Would it be a date?” She asks, unsure of herself.

Hermione chokes next to her and Azalea blushes, but Padma nods to her. “Yeah, a date. I'm asking you to go to the Ball as my date.” The girl holding herself together much better now that Azalea had joined her in embarrassment.

“Yeah.” Azalea answers, almost swallowing her tongue. “Yeah, we can do that.” Padma smiles at her, turning to leave.

She turns back suddenly. “You're friends with Neville, right? He was raised to know stuff about dates and dancing, so you can ask him if you want, or I could-” Blushing she turns away again. “I'll see you in class.”

***

“'We can do that'? Really?” Neville laughs, copying down her Herbology notes despite a disappointed glare from Hermione. “What's Dudley going to say about you having a date?”

Azalea crosses her arms. “He doesn't need to know.” Her two friends share a look, and she huffs. “Please, guys? It's not like he ever told me about Hagrid.”

“It's not really the same thing.” Neville reasons with her slowly.

Hermione nudges his shoulder lightly. “But it's not our job to control who you tell what. He'll find out at the dance anyway.”

Neville sighs but nods his agreement. “And yes, I can teach you a few basic dances.” Azalea lets out a deep breath, relieved, and lets her leg dangle off of the side of the window seat. “At our age, the requirements of a date are really simple. She asked you out, so she'll pick you up and drop you off, probably outside the common room. You decide together pretty much everything, and if one person doesn't have a say, it's considered really rude. Once we turn thirteen, they'll be stuff like gifts to remember, and then of course the courting rituals at start at fifteen, but for now you shouldn't worry too much.”

“The New Year Ball is a wizarding event, like the Halloween dance was a muggle one, so there will be some differences, but it's mainly just small things. A meal in the middle of the dance, for starters. Has culture taught you guys proper eating etiquette? You guys wont recognize any of the music, and the couples dances include actual dancing, like waltzing.” Neville looks at her suddenly. “Oh, do you know what she's wearing? Your colors should compliment each other, or match, depending on the colors.”

Azalea groans. “I don't even know what that means.” Neville rolls his eyes at her and she sighs. “I'll ask on Tuesday.”

***

She enters Transfiguration nervously, gathering her nerves. _Am I a Gryffindor or not?_ She steels herself, seating herself next to Padma, who gives her a cautious smile. “Hi.” Padma greets quietly.

The smile knocks the rest of her bravery away, and Azalea opens and closes her mouth a few times before she closes it and steadies herself. “Hi.” She breathes out, and the Ravenclaw's mouth twitches up. Azalea blushes and bends down, fumbling through her book bag. She grabs her book and slowly leans back up. “What color- I mean, I was told I should ask-” She stops herself from rambling and flinches in embarrassment.

Padma gives a small, nervous laugh. “White.” She answers. “Well, and pink. That probably doesn't actually tell you what you need. Can I?” She asks, pointing to Azalea's book. Azalea nods, confused, and Padma opens the book to the first page and points her wand at it, muttering a color-changing charm. The corner of the page turns into a soft pink. “Oh, and it's a sari.” Azalea gives the girl another lost look. “Of course you don't know what that is. My families Indian, and very old fashioned. It's a traditional thing for us to wear.”

Azalea nods, hoping to herself that Neville knew what to do.

It's on the way out of that class that she's pulled to the side and asked to the dance by a third-year Gryffindor boy. She awkwardly explains that she was asked over the weekend, and that she wouldn't be ditching her date just because he was an older boy.

***

A dark flurry of wings plummets towards their table, and Azalea jumps up and grabs the owl before it can land in the bowl of mashed potatoes. “Nice catch.” Ron tells her solemnly, grabbing Errol out of her hands. He grabs four letters from the owl before setting it onto an empty spot on the table. “Probably best to let him rest before he leaves.”

Hedwig flies down to them, giving them a hoot as she settles down onto Azalea's shoulder and holds her leg out. Ron leaves as Azalea grabs her and Dudley's letters and gives the owl a chunk of beef as a reward for a job well done. She gives Errol a chunk as well, realizing Ron hadn't fed the thing.

Ron returns quickly, letters delivered to his brothers. He reads the letter as he approaches, shoving it onto the table. “I don't reckon any of you are staying here for Christmas?” He asks them, receiving four shaking heads in response. Christmas this year is the first real Christmas her and Dudley would be experiencing since they were little, and she's not looking forward to it like she feels she should be. He sighs. “Mom and Dad are visiting Charlie in Romania for Christmas, and they're taking Ginny with them, but say they can't take all of us. I reckon Charlie's paying for Ginny.” His voice is laced with bitterness, and Azalea wonders if he's jealous.

Dudley looks at her with a question in his eyes, and she immediately knows what he wants. She bites the inside of her cheek, trying to decide how their father would answer. Ron and his brothers would be at school, alone. She sighs and nods at him, glancing over to the Slytherin table where the other three Weasley's are sitting. He smiles, and she relishes in making her brother happy.

“What if you could come to our house for the break?” Dudley asks, and Ron perks up. Azalea grabs a page out a blank notebook and writes out a message to her father, explaining the situation.

“You're dad wouldn't mind?” Ron asks, already scribbling out his own letter to his mother.

Dudley shrugs. “Family's important to him, and as long as we invite your brothers I don't see how he'll say no.” Azalea gives her family's owl the note and watches as the white bird flies away.

***

They get their responses the next day, and Ron and Dudley read their letters together. As expected, they get permission from both families, and Ron gestures over to the Slytherin table. “I guess I should go convince Percy. Come with me, Dudley, he'll take it better if you're there, since it's your house and all.”

“Yeah, sure.” Dudley says, standing. “We don't have long 'til class. 'Lea, can you tell the twins?” He points to the Ravenclaw table and Azalea raises her eyebrows but nods, quickly finding the Weasley's along the table. The three of them walk together, Azalea breaking off to walk down the closer table and slide herself in between the twins, the one in green on her left and the one in blue on her right.

“Don't sign yourselves up to stay here over holiday.” She tells them, grabbing a treacle tart.

The Ravenclaw of the two raises his eyebrow at his twin, who mimics the action. “Oh?' They ask together before falling into their routine of switching who was talking. “And why would we-” “Do that when-” “We were just told-” “Yesterday that that is-” “Exactly what we should do?”

Azalea smiles at their antics. “Weasley Christmas is at the Dursley residence. Your mother's already given permission.” She points their attention to Ron and Dudley talking to Percy, and Dudley does the same in their direction. Azalea waves slightly to the elder Weasley brother as the twins speak again.

“You know,-” “Lee is a-” “Weasley too.”

“I'll let my dad know.”

***

The final two weeks before break pass in a blur of Hermione stressing them all out over exams, Neville teaching her to dance and to eat in the first-year common room before bed, one rather awkward warning about her intentions with Padma from her twin Parvarti, and their father sending them trunks half the size of their normal trunk with the instruction to only pack what they need for the first night and the following day of vacation. Azalea takes that as the cue she needs to actually unpack her trunk, at the very least her winter wardrobe, into her wardrobe and bookcase the school provides for her, and her school supplies into her personal desk.

Azalea finds herself alone in the bathroom, staring at herself in the mirror before the dance, Hermione having left already to meet up with the rest of their group. Azalea's hands shake with nerves, and she runs one of them through her hair. Her dress had originally been green, but Neville had gotten permission from the designers of her dress to change the colors.

Her dress is white, the corset decorated in pink jewels that match the see-through shawl she was wearing over it. The bottom is cut sideways, just under the reach of her left hand, and down to the floor on her right side. Her shoes are pink flats, and Azalea sighs at the relief of not having to dance in heels.

She takes a deep breath and heads out of the dorms and through the portrait hole, eyes locking onto her date. Padma's sari is wrapped around her, pink decorating the edges of the fabric and a pink sleeve peeks out one side, the fabric covering the arm on the other side. Her 'P' necklace glints in the light above her fabric, her braided hair falling over her shoulder almost covering it.

Breath catching, Azalea approaches nervously. “You look good.” She says quietly, before realizing what she said. “Great! Not just good. Pretty. Really, really pretty.”

Padma smiles, offering her her arm. Azalea takes it, and they begin the walk down four flights of stairs to the Great Hall. “You look really pretty too.” Padma smiles at her, and Azalea smiles, nerves fluttering through her stomach. “Will you promise me one thing for tonight, Azalea?” The two girls meet eyes, and Azalea fells as though she's melting under the watch of Padma's dark eyes. “No joining in any fights tonight.”

Azalea laughs. “I'll stay by your side, no matter what trouble my friends get into.” She promises.

***

“Uh, would you like to find a place to sit?” Azalea asks, having led them into the Hall without any clue as to where to go from there.

Padma looks at her. “Can we sit with my sister? Her and Lavender are coming, but it's just the two of them, while your group would have six including us.”

Across the room, Hermione grabs Dudley to stop him from coming over to her. “That sounds like a good idea.” Azalea tells her date, earning her another smile. She's led across the room and they claim two seats at the table with Lavender and Parvarti, who sends her a warning glare. Their name plates pop up on their places, and they sit, Padma pulling herself into a conversation with the two Gryffindor's. The first course of the night appears in front of them, and Azalea nervously follows the lead of the others at the table.

Padma gives her an amused look and a small giggle. “Don't worry so much. I knew you were a muggle-born when I asked you to go with me, I'm not going to expect perfection out of you.” Azalea gives her a smile, and Padma leans close to her, telling her what to use to eat which part of her meal.

The music changes from quiet music to a louder song that Azalea figures she can waltz to. “Dance with me?” She says quietly, holding out her hand. Padma blushes and nods, taking Azalea's hand.

“I thought you didn't know how to dance?” Padma laughs as Azalea takes the lead.

Azalea ducks her head. “I didn't.” She admits. “Neville is a great teacher.”

“You must be a natural.” Padma praises her. “Took me a month to learn it well enough to stop counting steps out loud.” Azalea blushes, and her date studies her quickly. “Not that it's any surprise. You seem like you're a natural at anything physical.” Remembering Pavarti's warning about exactly what not to do with her twin, Azalea chokes, stumbling through a few steps. Padma clearly catches where her mind goes and she goes red. “No! No, no, no that's not what I meant.” She groans. “I mean, you're being called a Quidditch Prodigy by Oliver Wood, and everyone read about how you caught Longbottom in the school paper. And then Parvarti is incredibly jealous about how fast you're getting better at Gymnastics...” The words ring through her ears as if they don't fit. Azalea is definitely not the type of person anybody should be jealous of.

Padma trails off, and the girls finish their dance in silence, the music fading out and being replaced with a rock song. “Now this is where you'll see my lack of ability.” Azalea tells Padma, who laughs at her. They spend the next twenty minutes on the dance floor, laughing, not much conversation at all happening. The music fades back into background music, and the students head back to their seats for their second course.

The night continues in the same pattern, a course appearing every half-hour. The two girls spend their time together, joining both of their groups of friends sporadically. After their tenth and final course, the girls spin in a slow circle, tiredly enjoying one of the last dances of the night.

“Padma?” Azalea asks quietly. “Why me?”

The girl smiles. “Do you remember the time we were paired together in class? You had set down your quill, and when you picked it up you went to chew on the end, only you stuck the wrong end in your mouth.” Azalea remembers the taste of ink vividly and she grimaces. “You made me laugh. And when I heard about people wanting to ask you out because of your reputation, I remembered the quiet girl with a mouthful of ink that made me laugh, and I knew that's not something you deserved. I wanted to ask you anyway, but I didn't know if you were even allowed at a dance after what happened at the last one. And I figured you'd rather enjoy the night with your friends than with someone you hardly know.”

Azalea smiles. “I think I can safely say I've enjoyed this a lot more than I enjoyed Halloween.”

The song fades, picked up by a faster beat. “Do you want to head out now?” Padma asks her. “People left in a huge crowd last time, and I wouldn't mind getting ahead of them.” Azalea agrees and takes Padma's arm again, letting the Ravenclaw lead her out of the Great Hall and back up the stairs. “I've had fun tonight.” Azalea says quietly, slowing her steps as they approach the Gryffindor common room. She lets her hand slide off of Padma's arm, who grabs her hand and laces their fingers together.

“You should owl me over break.” Padma states, and Azalea agrees to it with a soft smile. The Ravenclaw seems to debate something with herself before giving a subtle nod and leaning forward, planting her lips lightly on top of Azalea's. The pressure was gone as quick as it was there, and Padma gives her a smile. “Goodnight, Azalea.” She separates their hands and walks away, leaving the Gryffindor watching her leave in shock.

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rewritten as of 6/29/18

“She did what?” Dudley yells, and Azalea flinches back. Fang whines from his place in the middle of the compartment.

“It was nothing, Dudley! Just a peck, really.” Hermione defends her. Azalea had told the dark witch what happened as soon as they were both in their bedroom.

Dudley stands, pointing at Azalea. “Nothing? Some Ravenclaw I had never even met before last night kissed my sister! On the date I didn't know she was having!”

Azalea was suddenly fed up. “It's not like I had ever met Hagrid before his dragon burnt your arm.” She growls at him before shaking her head. “I'm not dealing with this. Come, Fang.” She pulls open the door and heads out.

“And where are you going?” Dudley yells after her.

She turns back towards him in the doorway. “I guess I'll go sit with the twins, seeing as how you invited them to our house.” She slams the door behind her and walks down the train, glancing in the compartments until she spots the redheads she's looking for. She opens their compartment doors and lets herself and Fang in, shutting the door behind them. The twins, and Lee Jordan, their other partner-in-crime, raise their eyebrows at her. “Ignore me.” She waves her hand and sits on the corner of the bench, putting her feet up on the seat and curling in on herself, Fang resting his head on her feet.

The three third-years share a look before the twins crowd around her. “What's going on?” They ask her together, and Azalea gives them a dirty look before refusing to respond to them completely. “Oh come on.” “Don't be like that” They reprimand her. “Need we remind-” That you-” “Invited us-” “To your house-” “For an enjoyable break.”

“Dudley's an ass, okay?” She snaps, digging her nails into her palms.

The twins step back away from her with their hands in the air. “No need for such language, young lady.” They tease her before sharing another look and leaving the compartment. She looks after them incredulously.

Lee chuckles, drawing her attention. “They're gonna go get the story from him, since you're not gonna tell us anything.” She huffs and crosses her arms, causing him to laugh again. “Isn't that Hagrid's dog?” He asks her.

She lets every ounce of anger she feels drip through her voice. “Not since he left him locked in a wooden hut with a dragon.”

“Fair enough.” Lee says, before pulling a cage off of the seat next to him into his lap. “How are you with spiders?” She shrugs, and he gestures for her to come over to him. Grudgingly, she obliges and props herself onto the edge of the seat next to him. He opens the cage and puts his hand on the opening, letting a large spider crawl onto him. “It's a tarantula.” He tells her, slowly moving the spider closer to her. “Here, hold out your arm.” Again she does as she's told, grateful she's wearing her leather jacket and doesn't have to feel it on her bare skin.

“I'm warning you,” she says quietly as the tarantula moves up her arm a little, “if it comes near my face I'm probably going to cry.”

“You're real emotional right now, got it.” He jokes, but he does remove the spider from her arm when it moves further up. “How about a game of exploding snap? You have your wand?”

She sighs, realizing there's now way she'll be left alone, and she pulls her wand out of her satchel, where it sits in its box most of the time, and sits on the seat across from him. “You'll have to teach me.” He does, and he smiles when she wins the first game and confidently proclaims that it's beginners luck. The twins return as she wins the third game.

He deals them into the fourth game. “She's a card shark, guys. Beat me three times in a row already.”

The twins give him wide, trouble-making smiles. “Or she's a seeker.” They say together. “Sharp eyes-” “And quick reflexes.” “Surely you've heard-” “Wood raving about her.”

They play the round, Azalea winning again, and Lee deals out the next hand. “So what did he say?” He asks the twins, and Azalea's good mood shatters.

“Well-” “Azalea here-” “Failed to mention-” “That her brother was angry-” “Because she had her first kiss last night.” “And by a Ravenclaw, no less!” “Padma Patil.”

“I didn't tell you because it's none of your business.” She fumes.

Lee starts the round. “I'm sure he's just being an overprotective brother.”

The game is unable to hold her attention, and she loses for the first time.

“Suppose we should've guessed you were into Ravenclaw's.” One of the twins say, follows by the others smart remark. “Considering I was your first slow dance!” The two smirk to each other, and Azalea stands, tired of nobody being able to leave the topic alone.

“Forget it! I'll find somewhere else to sit.” She walks between the twins, heading to the door. One redhead grabs each arm, lifting her into the air and moving her back to her spot across from Lee.

“Sit down.” “We told Dudley we'd look after you.” “Can't watch you if your wandering the train.” She sits and crosses her arms again with an angry pout. She stays quiet the rest of the train ride, studying the group. George, she learns, is the left-handed twin with the mole on the right side of his face that's in Ravenclaw. Fred is his mirror opposite, and in Slytherin.

***

Their vacation starts off different than they expected. Instead of their father meeting them outside the barrier, their grandparents are waiting for them. Azalea, Fang, and the three older boys make it off of the train station first, and she greets her grandparents with a hug and introduces them. “You never mentioned your dog is a horse.” Her Grandmother gives a small laugh, scratching Fang behind his ears.

Dudley, Ron, and Percy exit through the barrier with Hermione, who walks up to her with the group. “Owl me if you need someone to vent to.” Hermione tells her quietly as Dudley greets their grandparents and introduces Ron and Percy. Azalea smiles and pulls the girl into a hug.

“With all them in the house, prepare for dozens of owls a day.” Hermione laughs and waves goodbye to the group as she heads towards her parents.

“Let's grab a bite to eat, then we can drive back to Cokeworth.” Her grandfather addresses the group. The nine of them head out onto the streets of London, finding a pizza place to sit down and eat at.

***

“Where's Dad?” Azalea asks timidly once the car enters Cokeworth.

Her grandmother smiles sadly at her. “He should be waiting for you at home, sweetie. We made him go to a meeting before you guys got to the house.” Azalea nods. She's had this explained to her before. His meetings were to help him stop drinking.

The car pulls up to the house, and the seven children pile out of the car and into the large house.

“There are six spare bedrooms upstairs.” Dudley tells their guests, leading them upstairs. “Dad said he got them furnished, so you can choose whichever ones you want.” They quickly choose their rooms, using only four with Ron using Dudley's second bedroom. The spare rooms work the same way Azalea's and Dudley's rooms do, with two bedrooms connected by a bathroom. The twins take two connected rooms, and Percy and Lee take two separate ones, with both of them having their connected bedroom empty.

They spend the next ten minutes explaining how the light switches work to the pure-bloods. The common rooms are lit by the fires, the halls lit by torches. Even their bedrooms have floating balls of lights they can move around instead of lamps.

By the time everybody is settled in, it's getting close to ten. Azalea excuses herself to her bedroom, changing and getting ready for bed in her bathroom. When she gets back into her bedroom, the twins are studying the space. “You know you don't have to watch me anymore. I'm perfectly safe in my own bedroom.”

“Are you sure this is your bedroom?” Fred asks.

George nods. “Doesn't seem like anyone lives here.”

Azalea sighs, resigning herself to them not leaving. “I've only lived here a few months.” She tells them, crawling onto her bed. “Where Dad lived before was too small for me and Dudley to live with him, so he had to buy somewhere bigger when he got custody of us.”

That gets both of their attention. “Custody?” George asks. “What about-” A pillow from Azalea's bed hits him in the face, accompanied by a warning look from Fred.

“You tell what you want when you want.” He tells her. “We wont question you about anything.”

“Everything good in here?” Dudley's voice breaks through the moment, and the twins respond together as Azalea scowls. Dudley laughs at them before walking up to her bed. “'Lea, I'm sorry alright? I didn't mean to make you so upset at me.”

She looks up at him. “I'm sure you didn't. Just like you didn't mean to hang out with a drunk that kept a dragon for a pet.” She spits at him, not bothering to censor herself. “Now get out of my room.”

***

Their father's car was in the driveway by the time Azalea and Dudley wake up. The empty space under the stairs in the kitchen have been filled with board games and card games, and Azalea and Dudley work silently to make a breakfast that can satisfy the Weasley's.

A few minutes later, Percy walks into the room, offering to help them. Azalea teaches him how to use the toaster quickly.

Bacon, sausage, toast, tea and three different types of pancakes later, the three of them are done cooking. The smell of food called the remainder of the Weasley's to the room and the seven of them sit down for breakfast.

Percy reads the Daily Prophet while the rest of them talk. Azalea talks with Lee and the twins, while Dudley and Ron talk together. Occasionally, Ron tries to pull Azalea into their conversation, and she will talk to him while ignoring everything Dudley says.

Done eating, Azalea puts the plates into the dishwasher while answering Lee's questions about it, and the twins browse the game shelves. Quickly, they come back to the table with Uno in their hands. “Did you know-” “Muggles have their own games-” “That we don't have?” Fred and George shuffle the deck while Percy reads the instructions.

The cards are dealt out and they start playing, cautiously at first, then more confidently.

The six of them quickly get caught up in the game, Percy keeping track of the points. They make it far past 500 points quickly, and they all agree to the winner not being decided until they wanna quit playing. People switch seats when they get fed up with the person next to them making them draw or lose a turn constantly. Azalea quickly forgets her argument with Dudley as they all bond over the card game.

At some point, their father comes in and introduces himself. “Who's won the most?” He asks them, standing at the doorway.

Percy looks at the scorecard. “Looks like Dudley has the least amount of points. I'm a close second, of course.”

Her father looks at them in momentary confusion. “I didn't know Uno was a point game. Huh.”

***

They play Uno until lunch, where their father makes grilled cheese and tomato soup for them all. Azalea and Dudley share a look with each other when he pours himself a drink to go with his meal. Disappointed, they introduce the Weasley's to the television, and they all sit down with various board games, watching a few of the dozens of Disney movies their father bought for them to watch when they first moved in.

Azalea can feel her tension rising throughout the day as their father continues pouring himself drinks. They order Chinese food after darkness has fallen, and after paying he excuses himself to bed.

Between one movie and the next, Azalea excuses herself to the kitchen to make them all popcorn. Percy joins her not long after she turns the stove on. “You know, I'm kinda shocked you're not a Slytherin.”

Looking up at him, she raises her eyebrows slightly. “And Dudley?”

“No.” He answers quickly, looking back towards the living room. “No, I doubt it was ever an option for him. You two are kinda opposites, you know. You survive by taking the rules your given and embracing them, you don't get into trouble unless you're protecting someone.” On cue, Fang walks into the room and plops down near Azalea's feet. “Anyway, I was just trying to say there are a lot of people similar to you in Slytherin, and I've seen what Gryffindor can be like. Don't forget there are people you can turn to.”

Azalea glances at him, feeling like he knows more than she was comfortable with about her past. “People like me?”

“Survivors.” He responds. The popcorn begins to pop, and he nods at her. “I'm heading to bed. I suggest you all go soon, it's getting late.” Shaken, Azalea finishes making popcorn to pass around with the group. When she gets back in the living room, the seating has changed. Ron and Dudley moved to the two chairs on either side of the couch, Lee is laying on the ground in front of the television asleep, and the twins are sitting on the two ends of the couch. Rolling her eyes, Azalea sits between the twins.

As soon as she sits down, Fred leans in at her and whispers. “Ignore anything Prefect Percy said. He thinks that since he went to Snape's Slytherin Prefect Class over summer that he can offer his help to anyone he thinks needs it.” Azalea gives him the popcorn, no longer as hungry as she was before he made it.

 _How do you know?_ She wants to ask, before remembering that Fred is a Slytherin too. If it is as common as Percy seems to think, Fred would have to know the signs.

***

The next two days fall into a pattern. The seven wizards are picked up after breakfast by Grandma and Grandpa Evans, and with the money Azalea and Dudley are given by their father they spend the days wandering around the small town. The first day, Azalea is held behind and her grandparents let her know that they know about her adoption, and they're willing to answer any questions she has about her birth mother.

The town park has put a temporary ice-skating rink over it's basketball court, and Azalea and Dudley rent skates for themselves and their guests and spend hours learning to skate. The Weasley's take turns helping them, having been skating on the frozen pond at their house every winter growing up.

The cinema entertains them all, and they rent the workers recommended Christmas movies at the rental store.

They eat lunch at a small diner, and are dropped back off at the house a little before dinner. Azalea and Dudley make dinner both nights with ingredients they bought while in town. After they lounge in the living room, learning to play different board and card games and watching a few movies before heading to bed. Most nights, more that one of the boys fall asleep while the movies are playing.

Christmas Eve Azalea's grandparents come over during breakfast with bags in their hands. After the food has been cleared, the Azalea, Dudley, and their grandparents teach the wizards -and their father- how to make and decorate several different type of cookies. By lunchtime, where they make simple sandwiches, the Ron and Dudley are both covered in flower, the twins and Lee have more frosting on their skin than they do freckles, and Azalea and Percy have eaten more cookie dough that they cooked.

After lunch, they're all given a gingerbread house kit to put together. The twins and Lee combine theirs, building a tower instead of a house. Percy follows the instructions precisely, Ron snacks on most of his decorations, struggling to get the walls to stand on their own, and Dudley and Azalea work together to make one wide house. They each pose for a photo next to their creations, the twins toppling their tower forward onto Lee's head when they climb up onto the table for a better picture.

As it gets closer to dinner, they all clean themselves up and plate their cookies. They're all loaded into two cars, with Fang laying across peoples laps on a leash, and head back into town for a Christmas Party in the park.

Small bonfires are spread out under a large gazebo, with food lining tables on both sides. Azalea, Dudley, and Ron stay together as the group splits up, with their grandparents taking fang with them as they set out their yard chairs near some other people.

They follow the flow of the crowd, grabbing food and relaxing around one of the bonfires together, enjoying the people singing Christmas carols.

“Bill!” Ron's voice rings out, startling Azalea and Dudley, drawing their attention the oldest Weasley brother. Azalea admires him briefly. Straight, shoulder length hair, long and lean features. “What're you doing here?” Ron runs towards him, drawing his attention to them. He gives Ron a relieved smile.

“Didn't get mom's letter until after I had bought a portkey back to the UK. I'm Bill Weasley. You must be Azalea and Dudley Dursley.” He answers, introducing himself to them while ruffling Ron's hair in greeting. “Figured I would surprise you lot at Hogwarts, only for none of you to be there when I showed up. Thankfully, Sprout was kind enough to get me the address and names of your hosts.”

By their grandparents, Fang spots Bill and stands slowly, greeting him with a bark. “Is that Fang?”

“And our grandparents.” Dudley nods, and the four of them head over to the dog. Bill introduces himself while squatting to pet Fang, and quickly the other Weasley's join them. Once they all know how Bill got there, he looks at the twins pointedly.

“Did you steal Hagrid's dog?”

Two offended faces respond. “Of course not!” “Azalea did!” “We had nothing-” “To do with it.”

Bill looks toward her with an amused expression as she blushes. “You don't have to go along with their lies, you know. They come with all sorts of strange things from their pranks.”

Azalea's blush deepens. “They're not-” She chokes a little at his surprised face. “I tried to give him back!”

They stay at the party a while longer, Bill grabbing himself a plate and getting to know Azalea's grandparents. They can't find their father when they're ready to leave, but their grandparents sigh and push them towards the car. “There was an open bar at the end. We'll come back and grab him, he'll be there in the morning.”

***

Dudley and Ron convince Bill to take one of the empty guest rooms, and the eight of them sit in the living room after they got home.

Having graduated three years ago, he's been going through different internships to find something he enjoys, and that his magic does well in. He talks excitedly about his current internship, a curse-breaking gig with Gringotts, and how he thinks it's something he would be really happy making a career out of.

“I have another month to go, but if it works out my instructor says I could take a few classes to get my certification before summer. There's a group that's been assigned to Egypt, and they leave at the beginning of May. I'm hoping I can start my training with them.”

Dudley and Azalea listen to the Weasley's conversations for an hour after they get back before heading to bed, leaving the family to catch up.

***

Christmas morning, Azalea heads downstairs, finding everybody else awake, despite the darkness still outside the window. Her father grunts at her over a cup of coffee.

“Finally!” Ron exclaims, bouncing on his beanbag. “She's up. Can we open presents now?” _Presents?_ She wonders, scrunching her eyebrows together. Bill chuckles as her father gives another grunt, and he waves his wand, presents floating in from the sun-room and sitting in front of their recipient. Even Bill's gifts sit there, and Azalea suspects he had brought them over himself last night while everyone else was asleep.

 _Should I have bought people presents?_ She thinks in a panic. It never even crossed her mind that she'd be getting anything this year, let alone getting anything for anybody else. She looks at Dudley, who is staring at the presents with wide eyes, and she lets herself feel relief that she's not alone.

They all open their presents quickly. Azalea gets a large container of Lego's, a lava lamp, and a stocking full of candy from her father, along with a collection of practice snitches, each one designed to match a different UK Quidditch Team. Her grandparents bought her a bundle of empty journals and a small glass statue of an Azalea, and Aunt Marge wrapped up a bunch of souvenirs from her most recent holiday, as well as giving her a large amount of supplies for Fang. Azalea throws one of the bones in front of his face, watching as he flinches back from it before sniffing it and cautiously chewing on it. Hagrid sent her some home-made dog treats for Fang, along with a note asking how he's been.

The last of her pile is from Mrs. Weasley, containing a tin of fudge and a emerald-green sweater with an A on the chest in black. Next to her, Dudley opens an identical pile, with a large D on the front if his sweater. The Weasley's, all already wearing their own sweaters, urge them to put them on. Bill sets a pile of Christmas Crackers onto the table between them and they spend the morning eating candy and playing games.

They go into town for an early dinner at their grandparents house. Christmas music plays through a crackling radio, and they enjoy the evening, their hair flashing between red and green thanks to something the twins spiked the punch with. The Weasley's proudly use their new mugs that Azalea's family gave them, displaying Kings Cross Station.

The night is long, loud, and enjoyable. Everything she's never had during Christmas.

A new book is on her bed when she heads back to her room. A note is on top of it, written in the same handwriting as the note that was in Lily Evans first-year journal.

_Miss Potter_

_You're mother would never forgive me if I allowed you to self-destruct._

_Merry Christmas_

Azalea scrunches up her forehead as she studies the cover of the book. **Meditation – Centering Your Magic** stares up at her, and she shoves it onto her side table, too tired to think of reading it.

***

Azalea takes a deep, shuddering breath. New Years is a time to relax and restore your magical core. The Weasley's left with Bill to spend the night at home, the family magic surrounding the area being beneficial to them. She sits on her knees in her white ritual robes, one of her fathers glass cups sitting in front of her, between a small kitchen knife and her wand.

Her magical core is still small. Once she's older, she'll need to use an inscriber instead of her wand, along with a ritual dagger that's attuned to her magic and a ritual goblet. This year, it's only important that she does the basics.

Her clock ticks closer to midnight and she grudgingly grabs her wand and holds the tip of it to the cup. She copies a rune painstakingly from a book open next to her. The image floats in the air in front of the cup until she finishes, and it glows brightly before settling onto the cup, looking like a scorch mark. She draws the same rune again, this time in the air in front of her. Standing, Azalea moves to the other side of where the rune is floating in the air and steps into it.

The rune floats through the robes and lands on her chest. A rush of energy runs through her body like an electric shock, leaving her tingling.

 _Magic._ She thinks with wonder. _Is this what the Professors are trying to get me to feel?_

Breathless, she draws a line down both arms, starting at the tip of her longest fingers, connecting them in front of her neck and continuing the line down to her bellybutton, where they say magical cores are centered. The white robes begin to glow blue, filling with her magic. That's what they're for- to call your magic in a way that wouldn't strain it.

She moves back to the other side of the glass and gets back down onto her knees, placing her wand back down onto the ground and picking up the knife. One at a time, she digs the tip of the blade into the inside of her wrists and drips one drop of blood from each wrist into the cup. Making sure none of her blood drips onto the carpet, she grabs the cup and presses her two thumbs against the rune, wrapping her hands around it as the rune glows blue again, filling the glass with water.

The water mixes with the blood as the clock turns to midnight. With a shaking breath, she drinks the liquid until the glass is empty.

Azalea's stomach lurches, and she wonders briefly if she messed up before remembering Professor Sanderson explaining the rush of magic that flows through the body. The glowing blue of the robe fades as the strong feeling spreads throughout her body. Struggling to move, she pushes herself off of the floor and onto her bed, falling onto it as the magic reaches her head and knocks her unconscious.

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rewritten as of 6/29/18

The tingling is still there when she wakes up.

Exploring the feeling, Azalea finds the place it's radiating from in her stomach. _I can probably do magic now._ She thinks sardonically, pushing herself into a sitting position. _Mom would be so proud._

She puts away the stuff scattered around her floor and gets ready for the day, feeling like her mind is moving slower than her body. As she gets out of the shower and wraps her robe around herself, she can hear her bedroom door open. Moving slowly, she opens her bathroom door and is greeted with the Weasley twins.

“You look-” “Like hell.”

Bill walks in from the hall and hits both twins on the back of the head. “Give her some time. The first ritual can be really taxing. You guys remember your first one.” He turns towards her and she shifts her robe slightly, embarrassed. “You okay? It can be overwhelming.”

Slowly, Azalea nods. “Tired.”

Fred and George laugh. “Yeah-” “Have you seen-” “Your hair?”

They both get hit on the back of the head again as Azalea pats down her wet, un-brushed hair self-consciously. “Unless you two have plan on insulting her, leave her to get ready.” Bill leaves the room, and Fred and George look at each other with comical alarm.

“We didn't mean-” “To insult you.” They bend at the waist before standing together. “Let us make it up to you.” Something in her says that those words from the twins means danger is coming, but she doesn't have time to object and George grabs her and sits her down on the bed and Fred disappears into her bathroom.

“Fred, try not to break anything!” She calls into the bathroom.

George looks at her with a raised eyebrow as he moves to sit behind her, his back against her headboard. “What makes you think he's Fred?” He asks, echoed by his twin from the bathroom.

“You're left-handed.” She answers with a wave of her hand. “The one of you two that danced with me led with the left hand, and you called the other one Fred then. Plus, you mentioned on the train that you were the Ravenclaw I danced with, and you have a mole on the right side of your jaw. Fred has the opposite.” She pauses before smirking at him. “Unless you're saying you lied to me the first time you met me.” _Although I doubt you did._

Fred comes into the room with a small container holding what looks like mini, neon-colored, rubber-bands and a normal black hair-tie, along with her hair brush. “You've only met us a few times.”

She smiles at Fred. “You two leave an impression.” Fred winks at her and she laughs again. “Do you even know what you're doing?” She asks as George begins to pull the brush through her hair.

“Ginny, our baby sister, begged people to do her hair as soon as she learned to talk. I was the one of us six boys that would do it, so I started having fun with it and experimenting with different looks.” He answers her.

“What is this?” Fred interrupts, holding a book open in front of him.

Azalea looks at it briefly before remembering her mystery Christmas present. “A gift.” She shrugs, freezing her movement as George stills her with his hands.

“For you?” He clarifies, looking at her intensely.

“Yes?” She says, confused about is interest in the book. “Why?” Silently, he pulls a piece of paper out of the book and slides it onto her lap. Instantly she remembers the note that came with the book. “That's my nickname.” She says quickly, unable to think of any other lies.

Clearly he didn't buy it. “We love nicknames. I guess you wont mind if we call you Miss P-”

“Alright, alright.” She throws her hands up. “Shut the door.” George throws his arm over her shoulder and grabs the note, reading it, and she sighs and jumps into the explanation. “Growing up, I knew my mom had a sister named Lily. After what I thought was my 11th birthday, we moved into my grandparents house, and I found out she was a witch. But her name was Lily Evans, so when 'Lee and I got to school and people toasted to Lily Potter, we didn't think they were the same person.” Her heart begins to race and George starts running his hands through her hair, calming her enough to keep talking.

“Muggle-borns, we take an inheritance test right before Halloween. Except mine didn't say I was my parents daughter. Turns out, I'm the dead daughter of Lily and James Potter.”

George doesn't pause in whatever he is doing with her hair, and Fred moves to sit on her other side. “The world thinks your dead. What happened?”

Azalea picks at her comforter with one hand, digging her fingernails into her palm on the other. “All I was told was that the day after Halloween, Mom was called to the Hospital because they had found me and my birth certificate. She changed my name, never told me I was adopted, and lied to me about when my birthday is.”

Fred nods, and she relaxes slightly. “And nobody knows?”

“Well, Dad's always known. Grandma and Grandpa were told sometime before break, and I told Dudley a little after I found out, but we're not telling people yet.” She looks at the letter on her lap and holds it up pathetically. “And whoever sends me these notes knew before I did.”

“Notes?” Fred repeats, and George speaks from behind her. “There were notes before this one?”

Nodding, Azalea points to where Lily's journal is on her desk. “I got that on her birthday last year. The note's still in there.” Fred follows to where she's pointing and grabs the journal, opening it and reading the note quickly.

“This is...”

“Yeah.” She answers, unsure. “It's not actually the first one. She started them when she was five, so the early ones aren't really worth reading, but she started a new one every year on her birthday.” A few moments later, Fred is on the bed, reading a five-year-old's journal, George starts pulling her hair away from her face in small sections, and Azalea starts relaxing again.

She's told when he's done, and she stands and moves in front of her vanity, studying herself in the mirror. Two small braids go down the sides of her head, starting at the edge of her bangs tiny and getting bigger and lower as they reach toward the back of her head, where they combine into one big braid. “Wow.” She trails her hands down the big braid, pulling it over her shoulder. “You should do my hair for the next dance.” George laughs and stretches out on her bed, causing her to roll her eyes. “Can I get dressed now?” She asks them teasingly, gesturing to her robe.

Her bedroom door opens with a slam and she jumps, standing straight with her arms behind her back, already shaking. Her father looks around the room, face red, and studies the three students with anger in his eyes. Azalea digs her fingernails into her palms, mentally preparing herself for the punishment that would come from her mother every time she came storming into her room.

“Mr. Dursley.” Fred greets carefully, standing up to her left. George joins him, standing on her right. Slowly, almost completely unnoticeably, they move so they're slightly in front of her, their upper arms brushing against the front of her shoulders.

The movement seems to get through to her father and he swallows, holding her eyes with his own. “I was just... checking on you.” He growls out, scowling. He turns and leaves, thundering down the stairs. The front door slams shut, and it's then that the twins relax slightly.

“Azalea-” Fred starts with the same careful tone.

“Go.” Azalea whispers, voice cracking. Fred and George share a worried look, and George opens his mouth. “Just go.” She pleads again. This time, they listen, shutting the door carefully behind them.

She stops trying so hard to hold herself together, and tears fill her eyes. Running, she opens her closet door and crawls to the farthest corner of it, shutting the door to leave her in darkness. In the corner she curls into a ball and sobs into her knees silently, back filled with phantom pains of scars that were removed by the very thing that made her get them.

 _I can't believe I was stupid enough to feel safe here!_ She berates herself bitterly. _There's no way he didn't know what was happening, and he just let it happen for years. You don't marry someone if you don't have something in common with them, it's only a matter of time before he starts to do the same thing._ She digs her fingernails into her calves, the pain helping steady her.

Light floods through the door as it opens a crack, Dudley slipping in and shutting it behind him. He crawls next to her and sits, shoulder pressing against her shoulder, his hand placed on knee comfortingly. “You know how I was upset about Padma?” He asks quietly, and she starts crying harder again. “I think- I mean, I'd guess...” He takes a deep breath. “I think he thought you were doing something with the twins, and so he got angry and protective. I don't think he meant...” He puts his arm around her shoulder, and she settles slightly at the familiarity, sniffling into his shoulder. “He's not Mom, 'Lea. I don't think he's every going to become Mom. I think we're safe here.”

“No matter what, we're in this together.”

They sit there in the dark together until she calms down, her emotions leaving her drained. She squeezes his hand with hers, letting him know she was okay, and they leave the closet together. “You okay to come down? Bill's charmed it to snow more outside so we can probably make a decent snowman.” Azalea shakes her head, gesturing vaguely to her ottoman in front of the window. He nods knowingly. “I'm going to bring you up some food. And I'll probably have to convince them that dad's not what the twins think they are. I'll probably have to tell them about Mom.” She doesn't object, and Dudley leaves her to herself.

Her fathers car pulls back into the driveway, and Azalea flinches back from the window. Moving the uneaten plate of food onto her vanity, she grabs her birth-mothers journal and settles into her bed with only her small lamp on, reading the journal entry from that date twenty years ago.

A knock on the door is followed quickly with her father walking in.

“I hear nobody has seen you today.” He starts the conversation gruffly, sitting on the edge of her bed. “I'm sorry about this morning. I probably overreacted. I heard...” He trails off, clearly not wanting to say exactly what he thought he heard. “It's not important. I spent the day at my sponsors house, talking through everything. I know boarding school means I won't get to watch you and Dud' grow up, but it's tough. I already missed most of your childhood, and you two are doing most of your growing away from me.” He takes a deep breath, eyes sad and haunted. “I'm trying. I really am.” He moves his hand, hesitating, and pats her shoulder lightly. “Good night, Azalea.”

***

The rest of the break passes quickly. Bill introduces them to the Knight Bus, and the wizards all get on it early Sunday morning, saying goodbye to the muggle family that gathered together to see them off. All of the Weasley's seem to have forgotten something at the house. They write a list for Azalea's father of things to owl them, the twins adding on 'muggle magic tricks' with a smirk and a wink. Percy sends it off with his owl once they get off of the bus.

They get to the station about half an hour before the train is scheduled to leave. Hermione barrels into them outside the barrier and drags them over to meet her parents. The older Weasley's go through the barrier with a wave, leaving the first-years to themselves. “Can they come over during the summer?” Hermione asks her parents excitedly.

Mr. and Mrs. Granger share a cautious look. “Would your parents allow it?” They ask. “They aren't... bothered?” Hermione huffs and rolls her eyes, crossing her arms.

Dudley and Azalea share a confused look, but Ron jump in quickly. “Nah. Wizards don't really care as long as your human.” The Granger's are clearly relieved at the statement, and Dudley puts their confusion into words.

“Why would Dad have a problem?”

Hermione holds up her arm as her parents smile down at them. “My skin color. My parents want to make sure your family's not racist. I told them I haven't had any problems since starting Hogwarts, but they really get nervous since most pure-blood English families are white.”

“Oh.” Dudley says, sharing a shrug with Azalea. “He hasn't said anything about it, and we've had Lee over all break.” He offers tentatively, pointing out Lee as he heads through the barrier with the Weasley's.

“If you wouldn't mind.” Mr. Granger breaths out before checking his watch. “You guys need to go catch your train before you miss it.” The subject forgotten by the children, they go through the barrier and find Neville before claiming a compartment on the train and catching up. Azalea, tentatively, lets her friends know she can feel her magic before refusing to actually try to practice.

“I'll do it on my own at the school.” She says firmly. If she fails horribly, she'd rather do it when nobody is there to watch. They share tales of break and play cards, Hermione teaching them B.S., game about lying and not getting caught.

Azalea fails horribly.

***

The next three weeks in class they revise. Azalea transfers all of her notes for each class into one of the journals her grandparents bought her so she can have the entire semesters notes in one place. Copying them over helps her remember them, and she takes turns with her two Gryffindor friends quizzing each other for each class.

Azalea stays up late most nights, practicing her magic in the bathroom. She's catching up quickly to the rest of her year.

Her father sends them a letter letting them know that they both now have a subscription to _The Daily Prophet_ , the wizarding newspaper, and the first paper they get makes them wish they didn't have the subscription.

**Is Hogwarts Safe?**

Worried parents are sending letters into the Prophet, asking one common question: Is Hogwarts still safe for our kids?

All break, Hogwarts students have been telling their parents dozens of versions of the same stories. Tales of Trolls injuring teachers and fighting a Cerberus in the halls, whispers of a Dragon in the forbidden forest. Are students trying to ask for help, or are they simply telling stories?

Headmaster Dumbledore assures our reporters that this is nothing more than Hogwarts famous rumor mill in action once more. Hogwarts always has been the safest place for our children, and he has no plans on that changing any time soon.

Azalea scoffs, her opinion of the Headmaster dropping. If he was going to dismiss the danger at his school so easily, what else is he willing to ignore?

Exams are spread out over a week, not including Wednesday, Gryffindor and Slytherin taking their exams at the same time. History, Herbology, Astronomy, and Latin are done between breakfast and lunch, having only written exams. For Transfiguration, Potions, Charms, and Defense they take the written portion after lunch, and the practical exam after an early dinner. Wednesday they use to work out and unwind between the two halves of their exams.

The Wednesday of exam week Azalea finishes her birth-mothers journal. She wakes up Thursday morning to the second-year journal on her bedside table with a simple note that she puts with the other two she's received from the person giving her gifts. _Happy Birthday, Lily Evans._

They're all exhausted by the end of it all, and they spend Saturday relaxing in their respective common rooms. Azalea feels regret for not spending more time with her brother, and she debates going to see him when Neville suggests a game of Exploding Snap and her regrets are quickly shoved aside.

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rewritten as of 7/1/18

“This, students, is a mirror. The Mirror of Erised, to be exact. Can you all read what is inscribed on it?” Professor Quirrell asks before turning back to the mirror and reading it reverently. “Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi. A truly dangerous bit of magic. Anybody have any insights on what the writing means?” He asks them, eyes not leaving the mirror.

Azalea rubs her head, wishing she knew how to get rid of her headache, as a Ravenclaw answers. “It's a riddle. It's written so you need to read it backwards, like you would see it in a mirror.”

“Very good.” He praises the boy. He flicks his wand and a copy of the inscription floats off of the mirror and reverses itself. “I show not your face but your hearts desire.” He reads, eyes roaming across the students. “The only one of it's kind, lent to me by Headmaster Dumbledore. It peers into the depths of your heart, of your desires, and shows you the deepest desire you might not be even aware you have. Mr. Malfoy!” He says suddenly, halting the conversation Malfoy was having with Crabbe and Goyle. “Why don't you be my first volunteer. Come look into the mirror.” The blond pulls himself to his feet dramatically and saunters up to the front. “Now, your deepest desire is a very personal thing. You don't need to tell anyone anything.”

Malfoy watches himself in the mirror with a bored scowl on his face for a moment, expression softening quickly. He glances behind him as if he expected someone to be there before turning back to the mirror with awe on his face.

One by one, Professor Quirrell calls them all forward to view their reflections. Azalea stands in the middle of a group of people, her father and grandparents on her right side. On her left are who she guesses are her birth-parents, smiling proudly at her, and Dudley standing by her right side with a grin. Behind her, her mother stands with a smile on her face, holding hands with both her father and her birth-mother.

Azalea flinches back from the mirror and returns to her seat quickly, trying to ignore her Professors eyes on her, studying her reaction. She finds it even harder than normal to pay attention to the class, barely writing the homework assignments down on her notes before bolting from the room, fingernails nearly breaking through the skin on her palms.

***

Over the next two days few first-years talked of anything besides the mirror. Surprisingly few people are actually talking about what they saw, but trying to guess what other people did see has become a running joke among everyone, as well as a new way for Ron and Malfoy to get a rise out of each other.

“Detention? Again?” Hermione huffs, before continuing with a resigned sigh. “What did he do now?”

“He and Malfoy -the git- got into it again in Transfiguration when Professor Idoni stepped out of the room, and he came back and had to cancel their spells to get them to pay any attention to him. He gave 'em both detention with Hagrid tonight and tomorrow during the Quidditch game.” Dudley spits, acting like it's the worst possible outcome.

“Spells?” Hermione asks horrified as Azalea asks. “Where is he now?”

Grabbing food from the table, Dudley nods at Hermione. “They held each other in the levitation charm. From what Ron told me, they were both so busy yelling at each other to let them down that they both just fell from the air when Idoni canceled the spells. Ron landed on a quill that snapped and stabbed him, so he's in the hospital wing.”

Hermione rolls her eyes. “Serves him right. Fighting in class, honestly!”

Azalea gives her friend a fond smile and pulls out **Meditation – Centering Your Magic** , flipping to the last page she had read. “Why are they always fighting, anyways? I never see Malfoy bother anyone besides Ron, and us all sometimes I guess.” Dudley shrugs, and Neville slides into the seat next to him. “He answer your questions?” Azalea asks.

Neville nods with a groan. “I don't know why Potions is so hard for me! Professor Atwood tries, but I guess I just don't have any affinity for it.” He shrinks in his seat defeated. “I can't do anything but Herbology.” Azalea pats his arm comfortingly, trying to think of a way to disagree with him. He fears flying ever since the first flying lesson, potions just don't seem to work for him, and his magic is shaky at best in Charms and Transfiguration. Astrology, History of Magic, and Culture classes don't really count, and boys and girls are separated in Gymnastics due to differences in body type.

Not needing the time to think about it, Hermione speaks. “Some people need to wait a little longer for their magical core to stabilize, Neville. You know that.”

He nods and fixes a plate gloomily. Azalea, trying to lighten the mood, picks up her glass and holds it in front of her with a small smirk. “So, if this cup could see into the mirror, what would it see?”

***

Watching a pair of seventh-years duel, Azalea listens to Ron enthusiastically go over what happened in his detention. “Wait a second.” Hermione interrupts quickly. “You broke the rules so your punishment was to go somewhere that was against the rules to go?” Ron glares at her and continues his story.

“So the animals in the forest are killing other animals and drinking their blood?” Azalea summarizes, trying to understand Ron's rambling.

“Not just killing any animals.” Dudley answers her, having been told all of this last night. “They're killing Unicorns.”

Neville gasps, and Azalea and Hermione share a confused look. “Unicorns are almost pure magic. They're completely innocent and pure, and killing one is the same as cursing yourself for the rest of your life. Animals usually ignore them completely.” Neville shudders and looks near tears. “Drinking the blood will make whoever drank it immortal at the cost of corrupting your soul.”

“Do you know what's killing them?” Hermione asks, interest sparking in her eyes.

Ron shakes his head. “Hagrid says it's a different animal every time. This time I think he said something about a deer's antlers, but he did mention one being attacked by a bird at some point, and a snake before that.”

Azalea hums. “Think Professor Quirrell would know anything? He's the Defense Professor, after all. And he's got his whole gift with animals.” They all decide that it's worth a shot and they send Hermione over to where the Professor is supervising a third-year duel. The small group watches the exchange eagerly, and Azalea frowns at the Defense Professor. “Does he look worried to you?” She asks her friends.

“No.” Ron answers, and Azalea wonders which one of them is seeing wrong. “Even if he was, though, I wouldn't blame the guy. Something that kills Unicorns has gotta be really bad.”

After a short conversation, Hermione returns with a nervous frown. “He says Hagrid hasn't mentioned it to him, but he promises to look into it.” She drags them to the library to do research of their own, where Azalea spends her time trying to meditate.

***

The next Friday is Valentines day and the masquerade ball. Padma rolls her eyes when Azalea quietly asks about going together. “You never owled me after our last dance, Dursley.”

Azalea repeats the words to Neville later that night in the first-year common room. “You basically told her you weren't interested.” Her quiet friend lets her know. “Parvarti really upset about it, actually. She and Lavender have been spreading rumors about you since we got back. You haven't noticed?”

She thinks back to the past month and a half, trying to remember when people have been talking about her. “Not really. After last semester, guess I got used to people looking at me.”

Hermione and Azalea just start getting ready for the dance when Katie walks into their bathroom. “You have a Weasley who wants in.” She says with a teasing smile. “Didn't know you were into older boys, Dursley.”

Azalea frowns in confusion, sharing a look with Hermione. “Percy?” She asks, confused as to why the Slytherin Prefect would be wanting in to her common room.

“No.” Katie shakes her head. “No, it's one of the twins. Dressed in Ravenclaw, but I don't know if that matters with how often they switch outfits.” Azalea frowns again. She's never seen them actually switch outfits. Sure, they joke about it sometimes, but if they do it it's not often.

“George.” She says, remembering her jokingly saying he should do her hair for the dance. “Can you let him in? He's here to help me get ready.” The older girl gives her a calculating look, and she sighs, remembering what other Gryffindor's have said before their friends from other houses could come into the common room. “I vouch for him.”

“Alright.” The older girl concedes, pushing herself off of the wall. “If he does anything, it's on you.” Azalea and Hermione roll their eyes together and set up their dresses and shoes on the far wall. The door to their dorm opens, and Katie's voice follows George through. “Don't you do anything, Weasley! They're first years!”

There's barely a pause before he yells back to her. “Fred and I have already been in her bed, what else could we do?” Azalea's jaw drops, catching the insinuation quickly.

“Oh, I am going to kill him!”

Hermione gives her a shocked look. “Azalea! You didn't?”

Azalea stares her friend down, offended. “I'm eleven! There's no way I would-” She takes a breath and settles herself down. “He did my hair. He sat behind me on my bed to do my hair. Fred was reading a book next to us.”

The Ravenclaw twin walks his way into the bathroom with a teasing smile on his face. “Well, you were wearing barely more than a towel at the time.” Azalea flushes and throws her hair brush at him.

“Ignore him.” She begs Hermione, not knowing how that comment would come across to her. “I was fully covered.” Turning back to the troublemaker, she glares. “I was joking about the hair, you know.”

Two hours later, Azalea and Hermione push George out of their dorm room with a note stuck to his chest telling the Gryffindor's to escort him out.

Azalea's hair circles around the back of her head in a loose braid that looks like petals, ending in a flower on the lower right side. Most of the hair is charmed blonde, with the petal-braid being green and the flower itself being a purple that matches her dress.

Hermione's hair is darkened to black and all flipped over to one side, pulled loosely into a couple of interconnecting braids. Flowers that George had summoned are dotted throughout the hair in a her dresses soft pink.

“He's weirdly good at this.” Hermione praises, petting her hair. Humming, Azalea agrees.

Together, they put on their masks and watch their eyes change color. Azalea's eyes go blue, and Hermione's hazel eyes darken to a nearly-black brown.

They meet Neville, with dark brown hair and green eyes, in the common room before heading out to meet up with their Hufflepuffs.

Entering the Great Hall, Azalea feels a magic cover her. “What was that?” She asks her group in a voice that is not her own. “Oh.”

“Voice changing charm.” Hermione answers her anyway, her voice deeper than normal.

The dance is decently formal, with a buffet bar between the sitting tables and the dance floor. A mix of Magical and Muggle music plays as they are asked to dance. Azalea loses sight of her friends quickly and, unable to remember the clothing anyone but Hermione, who also disappeared into the crowd, spends most of the dance dancing and talking with strangers, feeling rather brave in her anonymity.

There are a few people she recognizes, although she's unsure if any of them recognize her. Oliver Wood talks about Quidditch during the dance, Draco Malfoy has a drawl that even voice changing charms couldn't disguise, and the Patil twins have their signature 'P' necklaces hanging around their necks. It's only when Hermione pairs up with her that she knows someone recognizes her.

“I've found everybody.” Hermione tells her during their dance, and once the music fades out she follows her bossy friend off of the dance floor towards the tables. “There's only an hour or so left.”

Azalea studies the three boys critically. Ron would be the one with the longest, shaggy hair, changed to dirty blond. Neville had changed his hair to dark brown, leaving Dudley to be the one with black hair. “Dance with me, 'Lee?” She asks her brother with an elaborate bow, on cloud nine.

Dudley agrees, not smiling as she leads him out to the floor. “Have you heard the newest rumor about you?” He asks, eyes dancing between all of the boys around them. She says she hasn't, and he meets her eyes. “Good. Just try not to be alone with any boys for a while.”

***

The next time they see Professor Quirrell he walks up to them and gives them a thin, almost harsh smile. “You don't need to worry about the Unicorns anymore.” He tells them, something about his accent different. “I have dealt with the problem.”

Azalea frowns at her Professor slightly, wincing at the headache that was building. “Are you okay, sir?” She asks, speaking to him for probably the first time she's ever spoken to him. “You're voice seems a little off.”

The Professor studies her, taking a moment to respond. “I suppose taking care of the problem might have taken more from me that I predicted.” He answers, his accent returning to normal quickly. “Nothing relaxation won't fix.” He nods goodbye to them and turns away, his eyes lingering on the right side of her head. Azalea puts her hand on her birthmark as she watches her Professor walk away.

His classes change after that. The first-year lessons have been about different enchanted objects and how to handle coming in contact with them. Now, the objects they're studying are taking a darker turn, turning towards obscure and dangerous objects, and how to find them and use them. Professor Quirrell spends most of his classes lecturing, only letting someone speak when they have a question to ask, and then doesn't give them any homework.

Azalea's headaches get worse every Wednesday when she has the class. Most classes she spends half of the class with her stomach rolling at the amount of pain she's in as she tries to meditate and separate herself from it. Madam Pomfrey gets used to seeing her those nights, unable to keep her food down from pain.

“Migraines, Ms. Dursley.” The Mediwitch decides one day. “Do you know if anyone in your family has them?” Azalea shakes her head, not having any knowledge of any of her families medical problems. “Nonetheless, we can reason that something in Quirrell's room is triggering them. I'll have a potion sent down with your dinner on Wednesdays so you no longer have to visit me every week. Take it only if you're in pain.”

Wondering if her birth-mother did have a problem with migraines, Azalea heads down to the potions corridor and knocks on the Professor Snape's brewing door in the cauldron room. A few minutes go by with no answer, and Azalea deflates slightly and leaves the room.

“Ms. Dursley.” The mans voice rings through the hall coldly. Looking up from the floor, Azalea meets the Potions Masters eyes in shock. “Do you have a detention to serve that I was not made aware of?”

Flushing, Azalea shakes her head. “No, sir.” She walks closer to him nervously, clenching and unclenching her hands by her side. “I was wondering, since you knew my Aunt-” She stumbles over the word and presses on. “Did she ever have migraines?”

The Professor studies her briefly. “No.” He faces the door he must have been opening when he spotted her and begins to open it, showing an office on the other side. “I assume you are the one who has had me restocking Pomfrey's supply constantly.” Cautiously, Azalea follows him into his office. “Do you know what is causing them?”

“Um, Defense.” She answers. “Something in the classroom, we think.” She's given a look that is waiting for more details, and she thinks back to the classes where the pain was worst. “It used to only be when the animals were there, but it's been every class lately.”

Professor Snape studies her. “Very well. And I assume that's where you just came from?” Azalea nods, and he writes something down on his desk. “I'll make you a preventative potion for you to take at lunch on Wednesdays. Madam Pomfrey will be notified. Is that all?” Azalea blinks, unable to believe that he would just do something for her. A long silence extends between them, and the Potions Master sighs. “It is polite to answer when a question was asked of you.”

“Sorry, sir. Yes, Sir.”

She's dismissed with a wave of his hand. His voice follows her as she exits the door. “This is my office, Ms. Dursley. Should you go looking for me again, perhaps simply consider leaving a note on my desk.”

***

Despite the once-a-week horror that is Defense, the rest of the school-year goes by peacefully. Charms continues teaching them common household spells, and Transfiguration is progressing slowly or steadily, Azalea learning to decorate objects and change them into objects of a similar size and shape. Herbology is a calming lesson that she can relax into with Neville, while Potions is mainly her helping Neville not blow up the room. Astrology stops studying the location of the planets and becomes the study of how the stars affect different magics, Latin becomes more difficult as they start dissecting different spells and learning how the incantations were made, and Culture stops focusing on holidays and starts on the social hierarchy. She's advancing so quickly in Gymnastics that her coach suggests that she compete competitively over summer, while Oliver tells her she should go to Quidditch Camp between team practices.

They start studying outside by the lake again as the snow clears and the weather gets warmer. They begin revising for their final exams at the beginning of May, causing Professor Quirrell to cancel classes for a week while he creates a last-minute study plan.

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rewritten as of 7/6/18

Azalea wakes up in a panic, the harsh ground beneath her reminding her of the cupboard and shed that she and Dudley slept in at their mothers house. Slowly, she opens her eyes and studies the space around her. The room is completely made of stone, a large circular room with a small staircase leading to the only exit. In the middle of the room is the mirror she studied in class.

“P-Professor Quirrell?” She asks wearily, spotting him circling the mirror. “What's going on?” Last thing she remembers was getting up to shower after a really bad nightmare.

“Miss Potter.” Her Defense Professor speaks in a voice that isn't his own, causing her to feel as if a bucket of ice-water was poured down her back. “So nice of you to finally wake up.” Azalea stares at his back, mouth open. “No need to worry about your friends, you left them a note before you left the dorm room to revise on your own.”

 _I never have, they'd think it's weird._ Azalea hopes. “Who are you?” She asks instead. “What happened to Professor Quirrell?”

The man shifts so that he can see her in his reflection, his bright red eyes making her flinch back. “You haven't figured it out yet?” He tsk's at her. “Guess you try to hide your identity for a reason. You really don't live up to your potential.”

Her mind swirls, trying to throw together little bits of information. “You're the one that was killing the Unicorns in the forest.” She offers. “And Professor Quirrell's animals. You were... uh... controlling them.” She fumbles through the last few words, trying to figure out the words she wanted to use.

“Possessed them. Yes, that was all me. Perhaps you are not as dumb as you seem.” The man smiles at her, an uncomfortable, crazed grin that makes her skin crawl. “Do you see what you did to me? See what I have become. Nothing more than a wraith of my former self, forced to possess in order to have a body. Forced to drink Unicorn Blood in order to keep my magic. Forced to try to use the Elixir of Life to gain my own body back” He scowls at his reflection, one hand clenching over a wand and the other stroking the mirror. “Imagine, someone as powerful as me coming back into a body, only to become no better than a muggle.” He hisses the last word like it was a curse.

“What I did?” She asks, confused, before the story clicks together in her head. “You're that wizard. The one that was beaten on Halloween.”

She said the wrong thing, and the man turns towards her, wand raised, with all the anger she's ever experienced for her mother in his eyes. “' _That Wizard?'!_ I am Lord Voldemort, I am the greatest wizard since Salazar Slytherin walked these halls.” Rope wraps around her and she's lifted off of the ground and pulled forward, closer to him. “You're mud-blood mother was one of my best, you know. She deserted my cause, and when I found her, I also found about _you._ ” He presses Professor Quirrell's wand against her head, pushing her bangs out of the way to show her birthmark.

He turns back to the mirror and shifts his face to a bored expression. “I've been here every night this week. Tell me, Miss Potter, do you know the tale of the philosophers stone?” She doesn't, but she chooses to not answer him instead of proving that she knows less than him. “No, I suppose you wouldn't.” He sighs dramatically and flicks his wand in her direction, moving her to in front of the mirror. “Dumbledore has hidden it here to lure me in, I can see the magic signature around it. But I can't get it, and he doesn't even know how that I'm down here.”

 _What am I doing here?_ Azalea thinks to herself in a panic, watching the mirror warily, her possessed Professor standing behind her menacingly.

“What do you see?”

The mirror changes to the same thing she saw in class, her dead family on one side, alive family on the other, and her mother between them. The face of her mother blends with Voldemort's reflection, the red eyes shining through. “I asked you a question.” He growls impatiently, ropes twisting tighter around her body.

“Family.” She gasps out in pain. “I see my family.”

He growls again and drops her to the ground. He paces away from her with long strides. “ _How do I get it out of the mirror?_ ” He hisses to himself with the familiar accent of snake-language. “Think of the stone.” He addresses her again. “Look at the mirror and think of the philosophers stone.”Azalea takes a steadying breath and looks into the mirror, trying to think of anything except for the stone.

“Crucio.” A red light hits her and she screams, body feeling as though it's tearing itself apart, bones on fire, brain trying to explode from her head. Then the pain stops, and she takes quick, shuddering breaths. “I said think of the stone. You can't lie to me.” She forces herself into a sitting position, trembling.

Azalea looks into the mirror and thinks of the stone, despite not knowing what it is. Her family appears around her once more, causing a pang of longing. If she could only be with them right now, if only she could be safe.

But then Voldemort would get the stone. If he wants it this bad, that couldn't mean anything good.

Her grandfather shifts suddenly, catching her attention. He pulls something from behind him and holds it up with a wide smile. The rock was red, a deep blood-like color, shining like a ruby. Her grandfather gives it to her grandmother, who studies it for a second before handing it off to her dad.

“Well?” She's growled at as she watches the stone move between her family. “What do you see now?” From her dad to her mom, to her birth-parents.

Dudley gets it and holds it out for her. “The stone.” She answers honestly, a plan swirling through her mind. Dudley drops it into her pants pocket and she moves quickly to cover the bulge. “And how to make sure you don't get it.” She stands and lunges forward, shoving the mirror and toppling it over. She runs past it as it hits the ground and shatters, shards flying through the air and cutting the back of her legs through her pajama pants.

The stairs explode as she reaches them and she's flying backwards through the air. She lands on her side, her leg aching from landing on top of the stone, her hip screaming at her from landing on the broken glass. Then Voldemort is above her, yelling, wand pointed down at her.

Azalea tries desperately to push him away and is rewarded with a cutting spell slicing her thigh open. With a cry of pain, she grabs the nearest mirror shard and slices at him, hitting his hand and knocking the wand out of his hand.

He recovers quickly and grabs her arm.

She feels like her arm is burning where his hand grabs her, but compared to the spell he hit her with a few minutes ago it's nothing. He, however, yells and jumps back away from her, hand starting to get darker.

A quick glance at her unharmed arm gives her all the resolve she needs and she stands and lunges towards him and grabs his hand with her own, shoving her other hand in his face. Under her grip, his hand gets smaller rapidly, leaving flakes of something in her hand. His red eyes glare at her from between her fingers and she pushes herself harder as he tries to throw her off.

Wind tears through the room, helping her push him farther back. The hand that was on his hand moves to his throat, and she can't look away as his head turns black quickly, turning itself into ash at her touch. The body makes one last, desperate grab for her pocket where the stone is before it falls to the ground. She falls with it and crawls backwards in horror as the ash spreads along his entire body. She reaches the mirror and grabs a piece longer than her hand, holding it in front of her as she stands and makes her way back to the demolished stairway, never turning her back to what used to be her Professor.

Mist and vapor rises itself from the body, stopping Azalea in her tracks. It moves towards her quickly, and she jumps to the side as it draws close to her, rolling out of the way as smoothly as she can with her gymnastics training.

The mist lets out an angered yell and leaves the room, pushing itself through the wall.

Her professors ashes still lay in the room, and Azalea fights down nausea as the realization of what just happened hit her. Did she kill him? Was he already dead?

Pushing aside the questions, she approaches the flames. No heat reaches her, so she holds her breath and closes her eyes and runs through the flames, holding the glass tight to her body.

She runs straight into an extremely large body and she opens her eyes, finding herself on the other side of the flames, in a room with only a table full of potions. “Miss Dursley!” Professor McGonagall yells as Hagrid steadies Azalea. The two of them are joined by the head-of-house of all of the other houses, as well as the Headmaster.

“P-Professor Quirrell...” She responds weakly, looking back at the flames.

“We know.” Professor Snape assures her.

Headmaster Dumbledore nods and drinks a shot of a potion he was holding. “Hagrid, will you go ahead and bring young Azalea straight to the hospital wing. I shall be there after dealing with this.” Hagrid nods seriously at him. “Good. Everybody ready for what we might face?” He asks the head-of-house's before heading through the flames, quickly followed by everybody else.

“We best be goin'” The gamekeeper tells her, and he leads her gently through a series of rooms. They pass a giant chess set, a room of flying keys, and a large plant she hasn't studied yet in Herbology. They come out in the forbidden third floor corridor, with the Cerberus from Halloween snoring as a harp plays.

Outside the door her friends are waiting. Tears spring to her eyes as they all start talking to her at once and she lunges at her brother, wrapping her arms around him, careful to not cut him with the shard of glass still in her hand. “I owled dad. Told him everything that happened this year.” He tells her, voice cracking as she holds onto him. “He'll make sure it's safe before we come back next year.” She lets herself feel reassured and pulls back, looking at her other friends.

Locking eyes with Hermione, she smiles widely, gratitude filling her body. She lunges at the girl, wrapping her in her arms. “I know you were the one who knew something was wrong. Thank you.” She turns them, facing Hermione away from where Hagrid stands, dabbing his eyes with a dirty dishrag. “Pocket of my pants.” She whispers to her friend, who nods and moves her hand to grab it. “Keep it safe, and hidden. It's called the Philosophers Stone.” Hermione nods lightly, and Azalea feels the weight of the stone lighten. She pulls back from the dark girl, holding her shoulders. “You're brilliant.” She says loudly as Hermione slips the robe into the inside pocket of her cloak.

Hagrid shuffles forward, into the middle of their group. “Come along now.” The man says, his gruff voice gentle. “Dumbledore was real clear, 'n I'm sure Pomfrey won't be glad we're takin' so long.” Azalea looks at the man that her brother has a soft spot for and lets herself forgive him for the dragon incident.

Taking a step forward, her energy drops and the toll of everything that happened hit her at once. Her world wobbles once, and she throws her arms out to the side and stumbles, trying to balance herself, before her world wobbles again and goes dark, the sound of falling glass echoing in her head.

***

Azalea wakes up in the hospital wing, McGonagall standing at the end of her bed. She grabs a glass of water from her bedside table, eyes widening at the large pile of red and gold that sits there. “Gifts from those who wish for you to get better. Everybody has heard rumors about what happened.” Her head-of-house tells her, walking over to the pile. “I believe Mister Wood was very adamant about both of his Quidditch teams sending you gifts. You've been unconscious for a few weeks.”

“Miss Dursley.” The Professor says gently, propping herself onto the edge of the bed. “I need you to tell me what happened with Professor Quirrell.” Azalea looks down at her hands.

“I- I don't know.” She answers honestly. “Quirrell- well, he wasn't really Quirrell- he said he wanted me to get him something from the mirror, and I just knew I couldn't let him have it, so I broke the mirror. And then I tried to run, and he was so mad, and then this black mist left Professor Quirrell's body, which turned to ash.” Tears fill her eyes.

Her head-of-house nods. “That fits what Headmaster Dumbledore had guessed. Very well, Miss Dursley, I shall tell your friends that you are awake.” The stern woman turns and takes a few steps away before remembering something and turning back around, sliding her hand into her pocket and pulling out a box. “I have been told that having this could help you recover.. mentally.. from this ordeal.” She hands Azalea the box and leaves the room.

Cautiously, Azalea opens the box, stomach churning at the sight of the mirror shard she had fought of Voldemort with. Someone moves in her peripheral, and she quickly closes the box and puts it on the her empty side-table.

Madam Pomfrey sits down on the chair next to her, and Azalea braces herself for bad news. “You should be fine to leave for dinner, Miss Dursley.” She says, and Azalea sighs in relief. “However, I should inform you that the stress of the situation has triggered your period. Don't worry, you've slept through your entire cycle. Has you're family told you about them?” Azalea blushes and nods. She had always been aware of her mothers, often having to doing the shopping, and her father had been sure to buy her the stuff she would need if she started at school. The Mediwitch nods, satisfied, and holds up a small, circular calendar. “Now, this is a basic tracker, so that you can make sure you're periods are regular. It switches to the new month on the first, and it will show you you're current month, as well as the times of your last two. Just tap the date on the days you're bleeding. Give yourself a few months for your cycle to settle itself into a routine, but if you don't fall into a pattern by the end of summer, come see me again. Got it?” Azalea nods again, and Madam Pomfrey leaves her alone.

Recovering from the conversation, Azalea goes through her gifts. The Quidditch teams got her all the red and gold items, with scarves, gloves, hats, banners, jackets, shirts, and socks of both colors, gold with the Griffins logo and red with Lions. The twins sent her a small bundle of pranking supplies, and Percy gave her a book on alchemy. Neville got her a simple necklace, a red gem on a gold chain, Ron sent her a chocolate frog gift basket, and a rose sits in a vase form Dudley.

Hermione got her a muggle book, The Hobbit, with writing on the inside of the cover.

The end of this book reminds me of this year.

Azalea shrugs and puts the book back onto her side table as her friends her friends bust into the hospital wing, getting a warning from Madam Pomfrey about the noise. Ignoring their questions about what happened, Azalea offers them chocolate frogs and convinces them to tell her about the rumors flying around about her.

***

She gets one hundred points from the Headmaster at dinner that night, and she and Hermione sit on Azalea's bed that night, the curtains drawn around them. “You can't tell anyone any of this.” She says seriously, getting a nod from her best friend. She takes a breath and tells her everything, from her real name to what happened in the third floor corridor.

At the end of it all, they sit in silence a couple of seconds. Hermione then grabs one of Azalea's pillow and hits her upside the head with it. “I can't believe you told the twins before you told me!” She scolds her, causing them both to laugh. “When are you going to tell Dudley?”

Azalea pouts and holds a pillow close to her chest. “I've barely had a second alone with him since we found I'm adopted. He doesn't even know that the twins know!” She sighs and drops back onto her bed. “It probably wont be until we go home. Not to mention Dad's so angry at the school that I might not even be coming back next year.”

“And what about the stone?” Hermione asks her. “I mean, Dumbledore thinks that it's been destroyed. What do we do, give it back to him? ”

Shaking her head, Azalea feels panic well up. “Are you mad? Dumbledore used it to lure a Dark Lord into the middle of a school! He can't be trusted with it!” She can feel her friend preparing to argue with her. “Did you find out anything about it?”

They spend the rest of the night talking about Nicholas Flamel, and decide to send him an owl and ask him if he'd like it back.

***

Hours after Hermione went back to her own bed, Azalea lays staring up at her canopy, Voldemort's words echoing through her mind. The idea of the woman who wrote the journals, crying over her fighting with her sister and making friends in Herbology, becoming one of that monsters followers isn't something that makes sense.

A small pop comes from her bedside table, and she follows it to see a small potion vial.

Dreamless Sleep is written on it in an unfamiliar handwriting, but Azalea smiles, knowing only one person who makes potions. “Thanks, Professor.” She says quietly, drinking the potion and quickly falling to sleep.

The next day, the school owl refuses to leave with the letter. “I think that means they don't know where he is.” Hermione tells her, and they decide to lock it into Azalea's trunk until they can decide what to do with it.

***

The Saturday before exams, the Quidditch try-outs are held for each house in their practice pitch's. Dudley and Ron try out for the Hufflepuff teams while Azalea is trying out for the seeker position for Gryffindor. Azalea gets the spot without any decent competition, and the two Hufflepuffs are made reserve beaters for the Otters. All teams will practice once a week at the school over summer.

Exams go the same as last time, even Defense, which was being watched over by Potions Master Snape. Azalea, despite having a week less to study, is cautiously confident in what she did.

After the exam week, the students stay at school for a week, enjoying the castle and friends while learning their schedules for next year.

The Saturday after their final week they have breakfast in the Great Hall as a final goodbye, with lots of seventh-years crying and saying goodbye. The Hufflepuff Otters win the Quidditch Cup, with Gryffindor winning the House Cup. The students and teachers all head to the lake after Dumbledore gives them a goodbye speech, and the graduating students shake hands with all of the teachers before climbing onto the boats that would carry them back across the water to the Hogsmead station.

The five first-years find a compartment together, talking about their summer plans.

“So you guys really have no idea where he's taking you?” Ron asks them again, still not believing that they're going on a mystery holiday.

Dudley leans back in his seat. “None at all. He just said we're gonna be out of the country for two weeks.” Their father had made sure that he didn't give anything away, going so far as to tell them not to pack anything, and that they'd just buy clothes from where they're gonna be.

“Here, Ron.” Azalea catches his attention, pulling the prank set his brothers got for her and throwing it to him. “Use these on the twins for me. I want to hear stories as soon as we get back.” Ron grins at her and they all change topic of conversation as Ron challenges Hermione to a chess game and Azalea pulls out a deck of cards to play with Neville and Dudley.

***

The Dursley's go straight from the train station to the airport, their trunks shrunken down in their pockets. They fall asleep on the first class flight to America, too tired from the train ride for curiosity to keep them awake. It's not until after they rent a car and buy both students a luggage set and toiletries for the week that they're shown where they're staying.

“Disneyland?” They gasp together, looking at it outside their window.

Their father puffs up, pleased. “And Disney World next week.”

With all the excitement, Azalea quickly forgets to tell them the story of what happened with the stone.

 


End file.
